Intrusive Dusk
by Celtic Aurora
Summary: Things seemed to be going well for Van Helsing...but good things can quickly lead to bad things. Gabriel's ex-lover shows up, out for blood. Can she be defeated by the man she once loved? Sequel to Night Warriors. VHxOC, OCxOC.
1. Death Will Bring Life

_**A/N: **Well, this didn't take long at all, did it? No? Well, that's because I finished it...while I was still working on Kindred Spirits...Anyways, here it is, the new story and the sequel to Night Warriors! Whoooo!_

_I know I didn't give people a chance to review, but I will thank **Kairi's-twin **for sending in a review. Thank you!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Van Helsing. I own anyone you don't recognize...except Matthias...he belongs to my good friend, Damper(**Fop Huntress)** and she's kind enough to let me borrow him..._

* * *

Chapter One: Death Will Bring Life

_Transylvania, 1647_

A warm spring breeze rustled a few of the, green leaves that clung tightly to trees. A crescent moon, a shining silvery sliver, gleamed high overhead. It was a perfect night, even in the land known for its nightmarish environment.

His boots came down softly on the dirt, barely leaving an imprint. His long cloak swished around his ankles as he strode boldly yet carefully, his stride announcing confidence and fearlessness, yet thoughtfulness to exactly where he was. Keen hazel eyes darted back and forth beneath his hood, taking in his surroundings.

Finally, he came across a small cottage, nestled deep in the woods. A small spiral of smoke curled from the chimney, while a soft golden glow lit the windows. He stopped before the door and gently knocked on it; it creaked open the tiniest bit so an eye could peek out.

"Who goes there?" a soft feminine voice with a thick Transylvanian accent whispered.

"It's me…Gabriel…" he whispered softly, pushing his hood from his head as he spoke. A delighted gasp came from inside, and the door swung open all the way, revealing the cozy interior of cottage, as well as a lovely woman standing at the door.

Long, messy black hair fell down around her youthful face and shoulders, ending around mid-back or so. A faded and frayed burgundy ribbon held back the hair from her eyes, which were a deep, warm brown and sparkling with excitement. Her pale pink lips were twisted up in a loving smile at the sight of Gabriel. A well-worn white dress, worn under a laced burgundy bodice and a moss-colored skirt clothed her young, slender frame…though it failed to conceal a slightly-bulging stomach underneath.

"Gabriel…" she said softly, pulling him over the threshold and into the cottage's small, cozy interior.

"Alana…God, I've missed you…" he said. Their lips met in a tender yet passionate kiss. Alana's arms wrapped around Gabriel's neck, her slim fingers weaving into her lover's dark, messy, shoulder-length hair; his one hand rested on the small of her back, while the other drifted to her stomach, resting on the small bulge. He felt the life stirring within her…the life he had helped create…

They broke the kiss gently, and he smiled lovingly at her. "How have you been, love? It feels like ages since I last saw you!"

She gave a small laugh. "It's only been a little over a fortnight…but I've been doing just fine. I missed you terribly, though…"

"And I, you. How has the child..?"

Her hand joined his, resting gently on her swollen belly. "Same…just fine. This child kicks like a stubborn mule, though! They'll have your stubborn spirit, that is for certain! And how have you been?"

"I've been fine," he said. "I'm surprised, though…I've barely had any trouble these past few weeks. Only a minor incident with a few werewolves last week…"

"That's to be expected…" Alana said with a sly little grin. "I cast a charm of protection over you and your dear sister to keep you safe."

Gabriel gave a grin and gently tapped the end on her nose. "I thought I smelt burnt incense…" His smile faded slightly as his expression grew more serious. "But Catherine is becoming a little suspicious…you know how she feels about magic…"

"I know," Alana sighed. "But I have a feeling that your sister and I shall become closer once she gets to know me better…and besides, I'm sure being an aunt may change her feelings towards me…"

Gabriel smiled softly and stroked her cheek with his free hand. "My little optimist…"

His lips brushed against hers, and they kissed again…but, just then, there was a loud noise from outside. The couple broke apart, and watched as the door suddenly came flying off its hinges and crashed in a corner of the room, upsetting a pile of haphazardly-stacked spell-books. Alana screamed in fright and buried her face in Gabriel's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and shielded her, protecting her and her unborn child from whoever-or _whatever_-was outside.

A few people-both men and women-entered the cabin, wicked grins distorting their faces. They all wore aristocratic clothing under thick black cloaks that were embroidered with some sort of unfamiliar emblem. Their pale skin and unearthly ice-blue eyes identified them as vampires immediately; Gabriel reached into his own cloak, his hand closed around a yew-wood stake.

"What do you demons want?" he growled, turning to face them. Alana slipped behind his back, pressing her small, quaking frame against his back.

"Well, look who we have here…the great Gabriel Van Helsing," a male vampire with shoulder-length blonde hair sneered. "At last…I think everyone here has been simply _dying_ to meet you…"

All the vampires chuckled at his joke and closed in around them in a tight circle. Alana gulped and clung to Gabriel even closer. He glared at the approaching vampires. "Didn't you hear me? I asked you what you wanted!"

The blonde vampire spotted Alana cowering behind Gabriel. "Take the girl," he ordered. "Leave the hunter."

The vampires all sprang into action, charging towards them. Gabriel pulled the stake from his cloak and thrust it into the heart of the nearest vampire. He pulled it out almost instantly, then attempted to impale another vampire's heart on it. But there were too many of them for him to fight off alone…He kept fighting, though, refusing to back down.

"_GABRIEL!!" _Alana shrieked. Through a crowd of vampires, he saw the blonde vampire scoop Alana up into his arms. She struggled and tried to push herself from his arms, but he clutched her tighter, stilling her movements, then transformed into a demonic hell-bat and flew through the roof, leaving a large hole in the thatched straw.

"_ALANA!!_" he called after her. A brunette vampiress he was battling with took advantage of the hunter's distraction and grabbed the hunter by the back of his cloak, heaving him into a nearby wall. Pain flared in the back of his skull, while black stars danced before his eyes. He collapsed to the floor, on the very fringes of consciousness.

_Forgive me, my love…_he mentally beseeched Alana as his consciousness slipped away, despite the fact that she couldn't hear him. _I tried to protect you…_

_I honestly tried…_

* * *

Alana whimpered and glanced around in fright as the blonde vampire carried her into a large, darkened room. A single candle flickered on a large desk, casting strange, dancing shadows on the walls. A silhouette of a tall and reasonably curvaceous person-most likely a woman-could be seen against a large bay window. The person glanced over their shoulder at Alana's whimper.

"Ah…that will be all, Matthias," a cool feminine voice drawled. "You are dismissed."

Matthias unceremoniously dropped Alana, causing her to land jarringly on the floor, before bowing respectfully and slipping out of the room. The woman turned away from the window, and Alana's arms instinctively wrapped around her belly, hoping to protect her unborn child from harm.

The mysterious woman knelt before Alana, placed a hand under her chin, and lifted her head. By the faint candlelight, Alana could just barely make out cold sapphire eyes set in a delicate face as white as snow. Thick, dark-red hair fell around the woman's face.

"Miss Tremarie…" she purred. Under rose-red lips, Alana could see long, ivory fangs. "Please…do not fear me…I intend to cause you no harm…"

"Who are you?" Alana whimpered. "What do you want with me? What did you do to Gabriel..?"

"My name is Lilith. Lilith Freniere," she said soothingly. "And trouble yourself not…my thralls have left your lover alive…for now…"

"But why do you want me?"

Lilith smiled and gently stroked Alana's cheek. "Because you, my dear, are _special_…you have a wonderful knack for magic, do you not? Yes…I know about your witchcraft…white magic, very strong white magic. You have a gift, Miss Tremarie, a wonderful gift. Never let _anyone_-especially those hypocritical Christians like the ones of your old village-tell you otherwise. Now…the reason I brought you here, Miss Tremarie, is simple…I see a promising future for you with your magical abilities. I shall give you a choice: You can stay here, become a member of the Drakebane coven, and become my apprentice…or you can go. I will not stop you from leaving." A wicked grin crossed Lilith's face, causing her to bare her fangs. "However…I caution you…choose wisely. If you choose to leave, neither you nor Mr. Van Helsing will have the protection of the coven. If you leave, not only will Mr. Van Helsing be fair game, but you-and your unborn child as well-will be, too. So…what will your choice be, Miss Tremarie?"

Alana was silent as she thought it over for a moment, then, her answer came, barely more than a whisper. "A-All right…I s-shall j-join y-you…"

* * *

Gabriel sat in the dark back corner of a crowded tavern, hardly aware of anything that was going on around him. His bloodshot hazel eyes stared blankly into an empty wooden tumbler he clutched.

He heard footsteps approaching his table, and, a moment later, Catherine slipped into the chair across from him. She was clutching two wooden tumblers in her hands, and she placed one in front of Gabriel before taking a sip from her own. Gabriel gave a grunt of thanks and took a deep swig from the tumbler, feeling the familiar fire of absinthe carve a burning path down his throat, all the way to his stomach. It only burned for a second, though, before thankfully dulling the deep sorrow in his soul a little.

Catherine traced her finger around the rim of her tumbler, peering up at Gabriel through long, dark lashes. "Gabriel…I know how you feel…about what happened to Alana…"

"You know _nothing _of my pain, Catherine," he growled, his voice roughened from absinthe and sobbing.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, Gabriel," she replied. "I know how your heart mourns for Alana. I have mourned for her, too…"

"No, you haven't," he interrupted. "You haven't mourned for Alana. You hated her, so don't even pretend. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me."

"I never said I hated Alana," Catherine countered logically. "Now, I wasn't too overjoyed that she practiced witchcraft, but…More to the point, Gabriel, you should be out there, looking for her…"

"What good would that do?" Gabriel growled. "It's been two months since those leeches stole her away. No doubt she's long dead, along with the child she carried…"

"But do you know that, my dear brother?" she asked. "She could be dead, yes. But she could still be alive for all you know. There's a chance she could have survived, and her unborn child as well…"

Gabriel slammed his tumbler down on the rough wooden table, slopping absinthe on the surface and attracting a few curious stares from nearby patrons. "No, I don't know if she's alive-"

"And there's my point!" Catherine said, standing up and eyeing her elder brother angrily. "There's a chance the woman you love-and your first child- are still out there and still alive, and what are you doing? Sitting here in the back corner of a tavern, drowning yourself in absinthe! You are Gabriel William Van Helsing, the last hunter of the esteemed Van Helsing lineage! The Gabriel I knew would never give up so easily-!"

That was the last straw for Gabriel. He stood to his feet quickly, ready for a fight. Anger seemed to radiate from all parts of him…his eyes in particular. Catherine took a nervous step backwards, feeling how angry her brother was.

"You think I didn't try looking for her?!" he snarled loudly. Several in the tavern turned their heads to watch the spectacle. "I searched endlessly for days, Catherine! DAYS! And guess what? I found nothing-ABSOLUTELY NOTHING- of the woman I loved or the soul-stealing, sun-shirking vampires that kidnapped her! And here you stand, daring to question me on this matter?! You dare to question how much I loved Alana?!"

"Gabriel, I never said any such thing-" Catherine tried in vain to defend herself against her irrational brother.

"I LOVED HER TO THE END OF DAYS, DAMN IT!" he roared at her. She flinched. "You hated her because, God forbid, she practiced witchcraft! I _loved _her and you have the audacity to question HOW MUCH I CARE ABOUT HER??"

There was a flash of a hand, the sound of flesh on flesh, and Catherine stumbled back, her hands pressed against the left side of her face. She lost her balance when she stumbled over the uneven wood floor of the tavern and she fell; tears sparkled in her shocked blue eyes. When she fell, her hand came away from her face, and several people nearby gasped at the large, hand-shaped mark on her face, with a small cut from where a ring had met her skin.

Gabriel stared down at her for several minutes, still seeing red and panting angrily. Then, as his temper cooled, he realized what had happened, what he had done…

He had hit her.

He had struck Catherine…his own little sister.

A look of genuine shock and sorrow crossed his face, and he gently reached out a hand to help Catherine to her feet. "Catherine…I'm…I'm so sorry…I…"

She let out a low, scared-sounding whimper, then pushed herself up to her feet, shuffling away from her brother. The tears started spilling over onto her cheeks; she fled the tavern, sprinting up the stairs to the rooms above the tavern.

Gabriel sighed and slumped back in his seat, his heart now twice as guilt-laden. The patrons of the tavern slowly went back to their activities, though they all continued to cast Gabriel looks.

_What kind of man am I becoming? _He asked himself.

* * *

The last few rays of sun shone through one of the windows of Drakebane Manor, warming the splintery wooden lid of the coffin. From inside the coffin came a small groan, signaling that whoever was inside had awoken.

As soon as the very last rays of sun had vanished, the lid of the coffin creaked open noisily. Alana sat up, running her hands through her tousled black hair before leaping out of her coffin and moving to stand sentinel at the large window. One hand unconsciously drifted to her belly, which was greatly swollen now that she was nine months pregnant.

She heard the door creak open behind her, but she ignored it. The only thing that would remove her from her window was the sight of Gabriel, riding up the long, winding dirt road on the back of his powerful black stallion, Tempest, coming to take her away from the vampires, to a place where their child could be born and they could raise it in peace.

"Alana, my dear protégée, you _really _should be sitting down," Lilith's drawling voice whispered in her ear in a motherly fashion. "Or, better yet, lying down. You're so heavy with child, I fear you could go into labor at any moment!"

Alana shook her head. "No, I'm not going anywhere. Gabriel will come for me." She gently cradled her swollen belly with one hand and gently rubbed it with the other. "He will come for me, and for our child. I know he will…"

Lilith shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Still clinging to that hopeless dream, I see. Alana…it's been three months now. If Gabriel were coming, he would've come months ago. He's not going to come…"

Alana shook her head, not even looking at Lilith, but continuing to stare out the window. "You're wrong. He will come. He loves me too much not to…"

Lilith sighed and turned away, heading back towards the way she'd come. "All right, then-believe what you may; I cannot argue against your beliefs. If you wish to come join us, however, come seek us out. If you need anything-or if that child starts to come-just call for me and I shall come…"

She left, closing the door behind her. Alana's gaze never left the window; she simply continued to stare out the window, waiting for her lover to come. A soft song, barely audible, escaped her lips:

_I wish I had an angel  
__For one moment of love  
__I wish I had your angel, your  
__Virgin Mary undone  
__I'm in love with my lust  
__Burning angel wings to dust  
__I wish I had your angel tonight_

* * *

_-looks around and sighs in content- It's just me again. It's just me and myself and I. This is kinda nice...-reclines and puts in headphones- _

Gabriel: _-yelling from downstairs- _Catherine, I said I was sorry! Come on! I didn't mean to hit you!

Catherine: _-yelling from downstairs- _Yes, but you still hit me! You moron! I told you not to drink so much absinthe, but you didn't listen to me again!

_-shakes head- I spoke too soon...-goes to top of stairs- OI! YOU TWO! KEEP IT DOWN! I'M TRYING TO ADDRESS AN AUDIENCE HERE!_

Gabriel: Audience? _-comes thundering upstairs- _Don't tell me. You-?

Catherine: _-follows- _She did. She started the sequel! Ah, this calls for a party!

_Well, I do like parties...ah, what the hell? I'm off to party with Catherine and Gabriel! Please review and let me know what you thought! And, by the way, that song that Alana was singing is "Wish I Had an Angel" by-who else?-Nightwish._


	2. One Happy Little Family

_**A/N: **Hey everyone! Well, I'm happy to be updating at a pretty decent rate...it may take longer for new chapters to be released, as I'm now at the mercy of standardized tests and finals at my school...but I'll try to update as often as I can...and once June 13th rolls around, I'll be on pretty much all day, every day!_

_Many thanks to **musiclover209, Kairi's-twin, **and **SpeedDemon315 **for the lovely reviews. And a humongous welcome back to my first friend and best reviewer, **Dr. Lust**!_

* * *

Chapter Two: One Happy Little Family

_Vaseria, Romania-December 1889_

A thick blanket of snow lay over the quiet streets of Vaseria. Many windows glowed an inviting, cheerful yellow, suggesting that warm fires blazed within the buildings.

Towards the outskirts of the town was a large manor-Valerious Manor, the manor that, for centuries, had been the home of the reigning Gypsy royalty. Like the houses and shops in the village, many of the windows here were alight with a soft golden glow. And…if one were to listen close enough, they would hear a loud, clear tenor voice singing out carols of the season…someone in Valerious Manor was in a festive mood…

_Angels, we have heard on high  
__Sweetly singing o'er the plains_

Inside the large manor, Gabriel Van Helsing, the reigning King of the Gypsies, was balancing precariously on a stool, trying to hang a long stretch of evergreen garland from an archway right outside of one of the spacious living rooms in the manor. Despite the fact that he had been trying to hang the blasted garland for nearly an hour with little progress, he still smiled cheerfully-a very rare thing for him to do-and kept singing:

_And the mountains in reply  
__Echoing their joyous strains_

Suddenly, a pure, clear soprano joined his own voice. His smile only grew-he would recognize that voice anywhere. The voice of his angel…

_Gloria!  
__In excelses deo!  
__Gloria!  
__In excelses deo!_

Van Helsing looked down over his shoulder. Gabrielle, his wife, the true last of the Valerious line-and Queen of the Gypsies to boot-stood about ten feet behind him. She looked around the room that the hunter had been painstakingly decorating all day; her astonishingly gray eyes sparkled with delight, and her blood-red lips turned up in a pleased smile.

"Judging by your expression, I'd say you like it…" Van Helsing said, giving her a loving smile before turning back to focus on the task of hanging that pesky garland.

"Gabriel…it's _beautiful_…" she said softly, looking around the room. "Everything's wonderful…everything looks exactly the way it did when I was a child…"

"Good," Van Helsing said, feeling triumphant as he finally got the garland to hang the desired way. "That was my intention…"

"It's…it's perfect…" she praised. Her eyes took on a sort of dreamy look, the look one often got they were daydreaming or reminiscing. Van Helsing jumped down from the stool he had been precariously perched on, landing gracefully on his feet. He approached Gabrielle and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her on top of her head. She smiled up at her husband.

"Everything looks _exactly _as it did when I was a girl," she sighed. "It really takes me back, Gabriel. It takes me back to all those Christmases as a child…" She could see the large evergreen tree that had been set up in the living room and decorated over the hunter's shoulder, and she gave a small giggle. "Ah, the tree…oh, Anna used to love when the tree was decorated when she was a baby. Her and Velkan both…they'd just sit in front of the tree for hours at a time and stare at it…"

Van Helsing gave a small chuckle at the thought of both Velkan and Anna, Gabrielle's deceased brother and sister, sitting in front of the Christmas tree for hours as babies. Then, his smile faded slightly, and he sighed. "You know…this is the first time in about eight years I haven't spent a Christmas at the Vatican. Actually…it's kind of nice…"

"What was Christmas at the Vatican like?" Gabrielle asked as they moved into the next room to sit on the couch near the fireplace. A thoughtful servant had placed a mug of mulled cider and a mug of warmed cattle blood out on the small table before the couch for Van Helsing and Gabrielle. They both took the mugs, sat on the couch, and sipped from them as they watched the fire crackle and pop.

"Far more extravagant then this…" he said with a smirk. "Cardinal Jinette was always left in charge of decorating all around the basilica, and he took that job very, _very _seriously. I often believe they over-exaggerated Christmas at the Vatican…" He paused and thought over his last few words. "Now, don't get me wrong-I believe Christmas is a wonderful and undoubtedly important time of the year. But…at the Vatican, they really took the sanctity out of it and made it more superficial…and all the people who came to worship there, or simply look around at the lavish decorations…all the common people that believed me a murderer…I usually spent my Christmases there by myself. Hmm…wonder how Alexsei and Catherine are enjoying themselves at the Vatican this year…"

Gabrielle smiled when her husband mentioned his younger sister and her husband, both of whom were close, personal friends of hers. Both of them had returned to the Vatican to take Van Helsing's place until he decided to return…whenever that may be.

"Well…if they get fed up with all that nonsense at the Vatican or that Cardinal Jinette fellow I've heard _so much _about, they're more than welcome here…"

A mischievous little grin grew on her face. Van Helsing couldn't help but let a little grin cross his face as well. "I know that grin…" he said. "You've planned something, haven't you, Gabrielle? You've planned something that involves Catherine and Alexsei, haven't you?"

"Perhaps…" she said coyly. She daintily crossed one leg over the other in a way the hunter found practically irresistible and took a sip from her mug of warmed blood.

"Come on, Gabby. What are you planning?"

"I never said I was planning anything…" she said, a slight sing-song to her voice. "I simply said-"

Out of nowhere, there came a knocking at the door. Gabrielle set her mug down-rather eagerly, Van Helsing noticed-and stood up, hurrying to the door with a grin on her face. As he watched her go, he smiled and gave a contented sigh-every day, he simply fell more and more in love with her…

A few minutes later, Gabrielle returned to the room. Her face was ashen and bloodless, and her large grey eyes were filled with worry. Van Helsing was on his feet in an instant, crossing the room towards her in long strides.

"Gabrielle? What is it? What's wrong?"

She said nothing, only turned and walked back towards the front door, gesturing for him to follow. He did; his heart began to pound with dread. What could possibly be at the front door that had Gabrielle so spooked?

The front hall was drafty owing to the fact that Gabrielle had left the front door open. She stopped at the threshold; picked something up and closed the door, then turned to face her husband.

She held a small basket, one very crude and obviously hand-woven. The inside of the basket was lined with a thin, threadbare, tattered old blanket…and nestled inside the old blanket was a baby, only a week old-if that-sound asleep.

* * *

Van Helsing placed the basket on a chair close to the large fireplace to help the baby warm up from being left outside with the snow, making sure to set the basket down very carefully, so as not to awaken the infant. The child didn't stir. He smiled softly and turned, crossing the room to Gabrielle, who stood near the threshold of the room with an apprehensive look on her face.

"So…you just found the child on our doorstep?"

She nodded. "I opened the door…and the only thing there was the basket…with the child in it…"

"Was there any sort of note or anything? Any indication of who his or her parents are..?"

"Her," Gabrielle said. "It's a girl. I looked. And no…there was nothing. There weren't even any footprints in the snow leading to or from the manor. Just…" She trailed off, gesturing towards the basket on the chair.

Van Helsing glanced at the basket, and after looking at for a long moment, a small smile crossed his face. He looked back at Gabrielle.

"Perhaps it's meant to be a sign," he said. "A sign that…that we're supposed to raise her as our daughter. Clearly, she has no other parents…"

Gabrielle gave a small nod. She was still eyeing the basket in fear and apprehension; her strange behavior made the hunter curious. He approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Gabrielle? What's wrong?"

She cast another nervous glance at the basket the baby girl lay sleeping in before bowing her head. Van Helsing's brow furrowed. He was getting some inkling as to what Gabrielle's strange behavior meant. "Gabrielle…are you nervous about taking her in? Are you nervous about becoming her mother?"

Gabrielle looked back up, blood tears brimming in her eyes. "No…it's not as much that as…as I'm…Gabriel, someone has left an innocent, defenseless child on our doorstep. Do you know what kind of blood thrills a vampire most of all? The blood of defenseless, innocent children, especially babies…It's been known to practically bring new life to some vampires! Some vampires have even gone mad and slaughtered dozens of innocent infants and children, simply to drink their blood…Gabriel…what if I hurt her? What if I'm like these vampires? What if I slaughter her to simply to feast upon her blood? God…I would never forgive myself!"

She stopped and bowed her head again; a few blood tears trickled down her face. Van Helsing simply stared at her for a long moment, letting what she had said soak in, pondering over what she had said. He then gently reached out and lifted her chin so they were looking into each other's eyes.

"Gabrielle Alexandra Valerious Van Helsing," he said softly, yet with a firmness to his tone. "Listen to yourself. You think you're some kind of vicious, bloodthirsty monster…but Gabrielle…You're different from other vampires. You have a heart that beats and feels for everyone. You have a lingering respect for humanity. That respect makes you much, much different from a bloodthirsty monster. I know you never would-"

A whimpering cry interrupted him. Van Helsing looked over at the basket perched on the chair. A small hand poked out, grasping at the air. The baby girl cried out again, expressing her discomfort. The hunter placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and gave a gentle push towards the basket. She understood his implications and she cautiously approached the basket and lifted the infant from it.

For the first time, she got a good look at the girl. Even though she was barely a week old, she already had a few soft tufts of dark brown hair. Her round little cherubic cheeks were flushed from crying, and her eyes were scrunched tight. She reminded Gabrielle of Anna as a baby…so much so, it made her heart melt.

"Shush…don't cry, little one…" she cooed softly, gently stroking the child's face. "Don't cry. I won't hurt you…I won't ever hurt you…"

As she cooed, the child's sobs gradually quieted. She blinked up at Gabrielle with teary blue eyes, but she had stopped crying. Van Helsing moved to Gabrielle's side and slid an arm around her waist, smiling down gently at her. He didn't even have to say anything; Gabrielle could see the pride in his hazel eyes. She looked back down at the little girl, who had seized a strand of her raven hair and was sucking contentedly on it.

"You know, Gabriel…" she said softly. "You…you may be right. Maybe we are meant to raise her up as our daughter….maybe…I-I mean…I want to…so…"

"So raise her, we shall!" Van Helsing finished. "She'll be our daughter. Does she…do you think she has a name?"

"I don't know…" she said. "There's no way to know…but I had a thought…how do you feel about Nickelia?"

"Nickelia?"

Gabrielle nodded, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Yes…Nickelia. It's a bit of an older name…my mother used to tell me that it means 'beautiful angel of courage'…I always thought it was a lovely name…"

Van Helsing nodded. "Yes…yes. I agree, it is a lovely name. Nickelia…yes…" He gave the child a gentle smile. "Do you like that, little one?"

Nickelia made a soft cooing noise and reached for the hunter. He gently took her, cradling her in his arms as if he had done it many times before…even though, as far as he knew, he had fathered no children, and the closest he had ever come to caring for an infant was helping to care for Catherine when she was an infant-all memories of which were buried in the deep, dark recesses of his mind, so near, and yet, still so far. He gently stroked the tuft of dark hair on the little girl's head, and she yawned. Gabrielle kissed her on the top of her head, then let her head rest on Van Helsing's arm.

"One happy little family…" she said.

* * *

_Three Days Later_

Someone was pounding furiously at the door.

Van Helsing looked up from the book he was reading, which was the field diary belonging to Dracula that he had commandeered from Van Helsing Manor when Catherine had found it. Gabrielle had left about twenty minutes earlier to bathe Nickelia and put her to bed for the night.

The insistent pounding continued, and he kept listening. He could've sworn he heard a voice calling out as the pounding continued. Van Helsing looked around, seizing a dagger from a nearby side table, then slowly and cautiously made his way to the front door.

The closer he got, the more he realized he was right…Someone was yelling outside, calling his name over and over again. There was a thick Romanian accent to the voice, and whoever was yelling was male…It sounded so familiar…

_It sounds like…though it can't be…can it? _He thought as his hand gently closed around the handle of the door. Twirling the dagger in his hand so it was ready, should he need to plunge it into something, he turned the knob gently and yanked the door open.

To his amazement, his brother-in-law Alexsei stood outside the door. A thick dusting of snow had settled overtop his ink-colored hair, and his simple white tunic and black leggings were ripped and torn, as though he had been running long and hard through dense forests…perhaps even running in his wolf-form. The knee-length black coat he wore over his clothing was also ripped, and looked as though it was barely keeping him warm in the harsh Transylvanian winter outside. Van Helsing lowered the dagger, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Alexsei..?"

"Gabriel…Van Helsing! Ah, thank God you're here!" Alexsei said. "I had thought you and Gabrielle would reside here, but I knew there was always the possibility you two had chosen to reside at your family manor…"

Van Helsing took a step backwards to allow Alexsei in. He came in with a grateful nod, then proceeded to shake like a wet dog to rid himself of the snow in his hair. "Alexsei…I thought you were in Rome, at the Vatican…"

"I was. Not so much now, though." He pushed a few messy strands of hair from his face, and the hunter noticed something he hadn't seen on Alexsei's face before: Twin scars, one on each of Alexsei's temples…and they looked as though the wounds that had left them had been recently inflicted.

"Alexsei…where did those come from-?"

A piercing cry split the air, and Gabrielle came back into the front hall, carrying a squalling Nickelia and wearing a scowl. Alexsei raised a brow in surprise at the sight of the baby, but said nothing.

"God, who was pounding at the door and shouting?" she asked angrily. "Whoever it was woke Nikki-" She stopped short when she saw Alexsei. "Alexsei? What are you doing here?"

He sighed. "Gabriel…Gabrielle…there's trouble at the Vatican…"

* * *

_-smiles happily- Awww, that's so sweet, Gabriel! You're a daddy now!_

Van Helsing:_-shrugs- _I guess I am. She's really quite the cute little thing, too...

_Bring her by one day. I love babies, and I babysit too..._

Gabrielle: I'll bring her by later-Hey, there you are, Alexsei!

Alexsei:_-comes in and flops on couch- _God...I need a drink. A really strong one...

_Sorry, Alexsei, looks like you're outta luck. I'm a minor. I can't legally have or serve alcohol._

Alexsei: Damnit!

Van Helsing: What's got you so worked up, anyways? And where's Catherine? She was here earlier.

_I know. And she's not here._

Gabrielle: You know?

Van Helsing: She's not?

Alexsei: How do you know all this?

_Alexsei, I'm the writer. I kinda have to know. And you two -points to Van Helsing and Gabrielle- You have to wait like everyone else._

Van Helsing: That's not fair, Aurora.

Gabrielle: That's downright cruel!

_-imitating Davy Jones-Life is cruel. Why should the afterlife be any better? Anyways...please feel free to leave me a review! They really, really make my day! I hope you liked! And so you know, Nickelia's name is pronounced "nick-kay-lee-uh". I doubt it really means "beautiful angel of courage", though. My best friend made the name up for me so ten to one it has no real meaning._


	3. Innocent, Yet Guilty

_**A/N: **Hello once more, everyone! I was afraid that, with the standardized testing my school has been doing both last week and this week, and the impending finals in, like, three weeks, that I would have no time to write more chapters. But boy was I wrong! Our schedules are all weirded out at school-four hours in each class and many teachers are having trouble filling all four hours-so I actually got another chapter done! And by far the longest chapter I've ever written-eight pages in Microsoft Word! _

_Well, I hope you all enjoy my very long chapter of Intrusive Dusk! Thanks to **musiclover209, SpeedDemon315, Kairi's-twin, **and, last but not least, **Dr. Lust** for their wonderful reviews! _

_**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Van Helsing. I also still don't own Matthias-he's a rental from my friend. But I own everyone else, and I own my plot._

_**Warning: **This chapter is maybe a bit violent and graphic. I wouldn't recommend it if your not a huge fan of that sort of thing...But to everyone else, enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Three: Innocent, Yet Guilty

_The woods outside of the small town of Misulae Valley were a place men feared to tread. The legends-which parents often told their misbehaving children to scare them straight-said that the woods were haunted by evil, vengeful spirits. And the children believed these stories. But the adults and village elders of Misulae Valley knew the woods weren't really haunted by spirits._

_They were haunted by something much, much worse._

_But while the villagers were afraid to enter the woods for fear of the evil lurking within, at long last came a brave few who weren't afraid to enter the forest: The slayers, sent all the way from the Vatican by the Knights of the Holy Order, and led by none other than Catherine Van Helsing herself._

_The sun had finally set, and the slayers grabbed their weaponry and headed into the forest. The villagers looked on in excitement, eager to be rid of the evil that had plagued them for so long. The Vatican warriors headed deep into the woods, towards a large manor that the village elders had told them of; it didn't take them too long to find it. But unlike many manors that resided in the forests, this manor was not old and decrepit, left to fall to ruin. No…this manor was inhabited, well-kept, and a gothic masterpiece, with an imposing stone façade and tall towers with narrow lancet windows._

_Inside the manor, a young woman stood at a large bay window, watching as the slayers entered the clearing before the manor, pointing weapons at the vampire guards watching the manor. She stood like a military general-feet shoulder-width apart and back ramrod straight-observing the standoff below with a mix of curious interest and mild annoyance. As she watched, she toyed with the deep purple stone dangling from the black cord around her neck._

_She spotted Catherine Van Helsing at the front of the group, directly challenging the guards, and her demeanor changed completely. Anger flashed in her cold, dead, brown eyes, and a hiss passed through her fangs._

"_I should have known…" she drawled in her thick Romanian accent, her voice tight with anger. As she kept watching and seething, she heard the door to her office open. Her eyes briefly flickered to the opening door before flickering back to the window._

"_My mistress?" a male voice called. His voice was calm, but there was an underlying hint of anxiety. "My mistress, there are slayers-"_

"_-From the Vatican? So I've noticed, Matthias," she responded coldly._

"_Their leader…she's a Van Helsing. Catherine Van Helsing, the last great huntress," he said. "She demands the guards stand down. She and the rest of the slayers demand entrance…they demand to see you, my mistress…"_

"_Do they now?" she purred, contempt in her voice. "And do you know what it is these busybody slayers want, Matthias?"_

"_I know not, my mistress," Matthias said. "But I believe they wish to capture you, else they wouldn't be so adamant about gaining entrance."_

_There was silence for a long, long moment. She continued to stare out the window at both the slayers, who were tensed for battle, and her guards, who were also tensed for battle. As she watched, an inkling of an idea came to her; it grew and blossomed into a full-blown idea that she believed to be downright brilliant. She turned away from the window, her deep rose lips curling into a wicked grin. She took slow, deliberate steps towards a large, cleared desk and sat down in the wingback chair behind the desk, smirking at Matthias._

"_Let them come."_

"_Beg pardon?"_

"_You heard me," she said. "Let them come. Let Miss Van Helsing and the rest of her do-gooding posse come for me. Let them imprison me. They do not scare me with their hollow threats of imprisonment…"_

_She continued to gently, almost lovingly, stroke the stone that hung around her neck. In the gloom, the stone almost seemed to be glowing a faint shade of purple, reflecting amethyst tones in her eyes._

"_Let them come. Their chains cannot hold me…"_

* * *

Alexsei paused to take a grateful sip from the mug of mulled cider Gabrielle had given him. The hunter and the vampiress looked on, eager and concerned.

"So…what you're saying is they had you apprehend this vampire…and take him back to the Vatican?" Van Helsing asked.

"Not him…_her_…" Alexsei said. "But that is not important, at least not right now."

"But why are they having you bring vampires back to the Vatican? They never, in seven and a half years of living with the Knights of the Holy Order and being their metaphorical trash collector, had me bring a vampire back to the Vatican. And not just because I usually killed them first…"

Alexsei gave a heavy-hearted sigh and drained the cider in his mug, wishing whole-heartedly it was something stronger. "You see…Jinette has come up with some…some new plan. One inspired by Catherine and I, actually-"

"Catherine! Where's Catherine?" Van Helsing suddenly asked, concern in his voice.

"What manner of plan is this?" Gabrielle asked simultaneously, her voice edged with curiosity.

"One at a time one at a time!" Alexsei said, holding up a hand to his questioning friends. "To answer Gabrielle's question…well, as you can imagine, the fact that I was a werewolf and Catherine was a fallen…it didn't stay secret for long. Jinette was quick to learn our secrets…and from that, I believe his idea was born. He began to send slayers after the most powerful vampires, werewolves, and the like, all across Europe. But the slayers weren't to kill these creatures…no, they were to apprehend them and bring them back to the Vatican."

"What point does that serve?" Van Helsing asked.

"Oh, that's only half the plan!" Alexsei said. "There's more…Gabriel, he's trying to convert these creatures into slayers, like Catherine and I. Best as I can tell, he's creating an army of better, faster, stronger slayers to eliminate all the 'unholy creatures' in Europe. The apprehended creatures are kept in cells, under some pretty shoddy conditions, and every day, they're given the same choice: Join the Order…or stay incarcerated and eventually be killed." He ran a hand through his tousled hair and his shoulders seem to slump slightly. "And that is where the trouble started…"

* * *

_The heavy, iron-barred door creaked loudly when it was opened. Catherine poked her head in, then slipped through the door, closing it behind her, blocking off the rest of the world from the room._

_The room itself was a typical dungeon-style type of room. The lights were low, the room lit only by large mounted torches. The room was not much of a room, but more of a hallway, each side lined with iron-barred doors. Behind the doors, prisoners lurked in their fetid little cells; many of them had saddened expressions and were moping about miserably, having lost all hope upon being put in the cells._

_Catherine sighed-she hated this job, hated seeing the prisoners, the creatures, not so different from her, so disheartened-and started down the line, asking the same question over, and over, and over again, a tedious, mind-numbing task: "Will you join the Knights of the Holy Order, or no?"_

_Some creatures gave strong, vehement refusals at joining the Order. A few desperate souls agreed, their wills broken from imprisonment. But the majority of the creatures mostly stared off into space, dreaming of better days, and simply giving a small, vague shake of the head at Catherine's question._

_Finally, she stopped before a cell towards the back, where the most dangerous prisoners were kept. The cell she had stopped in front of was dark as midnight inside-no candles had been lit within; this prisoner preferred darkness. Catherine gave the bars a small shake. "Miss Tremarie, I know you're in there," she said. "Come on out. There's no need for this to be unpleasant…"_

_There was a noise from within the cell, and a woman stepped forward. Unlike most of the prisoners, who were unkempt, with faces that reflected their overwhelming sorrow, she was tidy and well-kept, with a face that radiated bitter defiance, not grief. Her chestnut eyes narrowed upon seeing Catherine and turned bright, icy blue._

"_What do you want, Catherine?" she spat._

"_I would have thought you would have learned the drill by now-you've been here nearly a month," Catherine remarked coolly. "I'm here to offer you a choice, Alana Tremarie: You can join the Knights of the Holy Order, or you can remain in this cell. What's your decision?"_

Not as though I don't already know…_she thought to herself._

"_My decision?" Alana snarled. "Why ask? You already know my decision. I'd rather rot in the ninth circle of Hell than join the Order. It's nothing more than a pathetic organization built on the lies of hypocrites. After all, that's all you Christians are-hypocrites. Especially you and every other cursed creature that works and slays for the Order. You're the worst kind of hypocrite. Striking down your brethren in the name of your God?! Pah! You make me want to vomit!"_

_She finished her passion-fueled statement and folded her arms across her chest in defiance. An incensed look had come over Catherine's face during Alana's outburst, but she held her temper. _

"_So be it, then," she said, voice edged with venom. "Hope you're comfortable in that cell. Looks as though you'll be in there for a while to come."_

_She turned and walked away, heading back the way she had come. Alana's hands twisted around the bars; her narrowed eyes began to glow a faint shade of purple (as did the stone around her neck) as she watched Catherine's retreating back._

_With no warning, a burst of sharp, sudden pain exploded at the base of Catherine's skull. She gave a loud gasp and clasped her hands to her head, tears of pain welling in the corners of her eyes. It was as though someone was cleaving her skull in two with an axe; the pain had her screaming, nearly bringing her to her knees._

_The longer and louder she screamed and cried in agony, the more prisoners came to the front of their cells, drawn by curiosity. Beyond the door to the prisoners' hall, the sounds of footsteps could be heard-Catherine was drawing the attention of the slayers as well…_

_By the time the large wooden door had swung open and four slayers-Alexsei included-had come charging in, the fiery pain in Catherine's skull had reached a new level of agony. Darkness was beginning to close in on her mind, bringing her the promises of oblivion, of release from her pain. Catherine embraced this darkness, and, mid-scream, her blue eyes rolled back in her head, her eyelids fluttering to cover them; her knees gave out, and she collapsed face-first on the unforgiving stone floor._

* * *

Gabrielle's thin, pale hands were visibly trembling in her lap. "W-Was C-Catherine…d-dead?"

Alexsei shook his head, scattering his messy black hair. "No, no, she wasn't dead…Simply unconscious, and none of us can really blame her for that. But…" His face suddenly darkened, becoming far more serious than he usually acted. "But I think-and this may sound horrible of me to say, but I think it's true-I think that Catherine would be better off having died than…than what actually happened to her…"

"Well, what actually happened?" Van Helsing asked. There was concern and anxiety in his tone, two things rarely heard in his voice.

Alexsei sighed. "We moved Catherine to the infirmary, waiting for her to come around…And that night was when everything went straight to Hell…"

* * *

_The clock struck midnight._

_The sounds of the bells tolling echoed out across the one square mile that the Vatican occupied. The moon shone high above in the sky, and a mild winter breeze blew. Another peaceful, serene night._

_In the infirmary, all was quiet. The healer had retired for the night, leaving all the sick and injured under the watchful eye of a monk who offered to take the night watch._

_Catherine lay in her bed, still unconscious- though, with her the covers pulled up to her chest and her hands folded atop the covers, she looked as though she were merely sleeping. Alexsei sat in a nearby chair, curled in a rather uncomfortable position; he had been adamant about staying by his wife's side until she regained consciousness._

_As the last bell of midnight tolled, Catherine's eyes snapped open suddenly-but they were a strange, almost luminous purple instead of their usual sapphire. She sat up, looking around the slumbering infirmary, and a small wicked grin split her face._

"_Perfect," she murmured quietly, so as not to wake Alexsei. "Exactly where I wanted to be…" Her grin only widened when she spotted the weapons laid out on the bedside table: two daggers, a revolver, a small pouch of throwing stars, and two handheld, blade-edged fans. She slipped out the bed, silent as a shadow, and quickly-but silently-armed herself, keeping a dagger in one hand and a blade-fan in the other. She strode across the room to the door and yanked it open, startling the monk beside the door, the one on the night watch._

"_Oh! Miss Van Helsing!" he cried out. "Good to see you up and about! You gave everyone quite a scare, passing out like that right in-"_

_He was cut off suddenly as she drew the blade-fan across his throat, not even blinking an eye. The startled monk clutched at his throat; blood oozed between his fingers, dripping on the floor. _

"_Sorry…Catherine is unavailable at the moment," she chuckled, watching the man drop to the floor as his last bit of lifeblood trickled from his throat. "I shall inform you when she returns…"_

_And with that, she set off down the hallway, towards the dormitories, where Carl, Cardinal Jinette, and all the other holy men of the Order lay sleeping, blissfully unaware…_

* * *

_In his tiny, cramped cell of a room, Carl opened his eyes and lifted his head groggily. He could hear things…shouts, yells, and the faint sound of metal on metal. It almost sounded like a battle had begun in the halls of the Order._

_Unexpectedly, there came a loud thud at the door, followed by the sounds of weak knocking. Carl climbed from the safety of his warm bed and took a quick look around his room, searching for any type of weapon, anything at all to protect him. Nothing but books and a few test tubes from experiments. He briefly considered breaking one of the test tubes and using it as a weapon, but decided against it and instead simply opened the door._

_A friar, who Carl knew by face but not by name, lay on the threshold, face-down and seemingly dead. When Carl opened the door, the man looked up, his face marred and disfigured by numerous bleeding gashes. His breathing was shallow and uneven…Carl's room was not the only threshold he was on._

"_B-Brother C-Carl!" he panted. "Y-You m-m-must…m-must r-run…s-save…save y-yourself…C-Catherine…"_

_But whatever he was going to say about Catherine went unheard. A loud report echoed out, and the man gave one last groan before falling silent, his limp form flopping to the floor. Carl looked up, eyes wide in panic and fear, and found Catherine maybe twenty feet away, her still-smoking revolver pointed at the friar. Her clothes and hands were stained with blood, and the hand that wasn't holding the revolver held a bloodied dagger. And the hall outside of Carl's door was awash with blood, the scene of a massacre._

_Carl looked up at his friend in shock. "Catherine! My God! Catherine, what are you doing-?"_

_She looked up at him, and that's when he noticed it-the strange, luminous purple her eyes were, and the expression of pure malice on her usually-kind face. She gave him a grin that sent shivers down his spine._

"_What am I doing?" she asked. "Tell me, my dearly ignorant friar…what does it _look _like I'm doing?!"_

_She lunged for him, her wings unfurling from her back when she did. Carl darted from his doorway and took off down the hallway, while she ended up flying headlong into the wall above Carl's bed, tumbling onto the friar's bed. Snarling and cursing angrily, she sat up, bounded off the bed and to the door, drawing her revolver, and she took aim and fired._

_A bullet tore into Carl's left forearm, burying itself deep in muscle, bone, and tissue. He stumbled, yelled in pain, and clutched his wounded arm, feeling warm blood seeping onto his robes. She made to come after him, until an attack from a brave, though terribly foolish, monk diverted her attention._

_Carl hadn't gone far when he ran headlong into Alexsei. Alexsei's messy black hair was even more rumpled than it had been, and his dark hazel eyes were full of panic and concern. He grabbed Carl by his upper arms; the friar winced in pain at his not-so-gentle grip._

"_Carl…where is my wife?!" he asked, a rising amount of panic in his voice. "Where's Catherine?! I awoke and she was gone, all her weaponry was gone, and there was a dead monk outside the door!"_

_Carl gulped nervously. "She's…she's back that way, Alexsei-" He gestured over his shoulder, towards the way he had come. "But she's…Alexsei, there's something wrong with her…"_

_That was all he needed to hear. He pushed past Carl, running flat-out down the hall in the direction Carl had indicated. Bodies of slayers and members of the Order, both dead and wounded alike, littered the hallway, leaving a veritable blood trail for him to follow…one that would take him to exactly whom he sought…_

_He found her nearly all the way to the basilica's main dome. She whirled around the instant he got within ten feet of her, dropping the man she had been tormenting as she did. He scurried away, a terrified look on his face. Her face, however, broke into a broad grin._

"_Ah…you look like you would be some actual competition!" she cheered. "More enjoyable to fight!"_

"_Catherine, please…" he started. Her luminous amethyst eyes narrowed upon hearing the name "Catherine"._

"_Sorry to disappoint you, pet…" she sneered mockingly. "But I'm _not _Catherine!" With no further ado, she lunged at Alexsei, colliding with him and sending him sprawling to the floor. Her fist collided with his face, leaving a mark that was sure to be a nasty bruise later. He managed to seize her tightly by her right wing, and, with a flick of his wrist, she went flying out into the main dome of the basilica. She looked up at him as he got to his feet, eyes burning in rage. _

"_You bastard!" she screeched. "You'll pay for that!"_

_She scrambled up and charged at Alexsei again. He braced himself, not only for another attack, but also for what he had to do. He hated the thought of what he had to do, but it was for her own good. There was something wrong with her…_

_Just as she came at him, he feinted to the right, and grabbed her wing again. She fought him furiously to get free; his fist collided with the base of her skull, and he flicked his wrist again, releasing her wing. She soared back towards the dome, and came to rest on the slick marble floors with a bone-breaking thud. Upon impact, her eyes fluttered and began to close as she was swallowed by the darkness looming in the back of her mind._

_Alexsei entered the dome, taking his wife's unconscious form in his arms again. His eyes were filled with a deep remorse as he looked down at her. "I'm sorry, my love…I'm so sorry…"_

* * *

Tears filled Alexsei's eyes as he stared at the floor. Silence ruled the living room of Valerious Manor for several long moments. Nickelia didn't even cry or coo as she often did in this deep, complete silence.

Van Helsing was in utter shock. His sister-his own flesh and blood-was responsible for the deaths of so many innocents, and the injury of so many more. He felt ashamed, that someone from his very same bloodline could be so cruel towards the innocent members of the church and the Order…but, at the same time, he knew it wasn't exactly _Catherine _who committed this atrocity.

"Possession…she was being possessed. That's why she did such a thing…"

Alexsei nodded mutely, trying to stop himself from bursting into tears.

"Wait…that name you mentioned earlier…" Gabrielle said. "Alana Tremarie…this wouldn't happen to be the same Alana Tremarie who is also known as the Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania…would it?"

Again, another nod from Alexsei. "The very same."

That name…it seemed so familiar to Van Helsing. Alana Tremarie…he could've sworn he had known her before, or heard of her. Was she another person who, like Dracula, knew him, and who he had known, but forgotten about? A person buried in the deep, unknown recesses of his memory?

Alexsei sighed, the breath coming out slightly shaky. "Please, Gabriel…please. We need you back at the Order. That's why I came all the way out here…to ask you to come back. Please…the Vatican needs its avenger back."

* * *

Gabrielle: Holy hell...

Van Helsing: God, I should've never left the Vatican!

_Hmmm...I was right in my thinking that, without you, the Vatican would pretty much fall to ruin..._

Gabrielle: Yep, you were right..._-starts digging in pockets-_

Van Helsing: What are you doing?

_I bet Gabrielle fifteen dollars that the Order would screw something up while you were gone -holds out palm- Pay up, love_

Gabrielle: Damn smarty-pants author...

_And proud of it..._

Van Helsing:_-facepalm-_

Alexsei: Hey, you think it was bad to hear about? Try living it! I seriously had to knock my own wife out by hitting her! I don't hit girls!

_What about all those werewolves back during the final battle in Night Warriors? There were a few females in there..._

Alexsei: That's a different story.

_Right-o then, whatever you say, Al the Werewolf-Squishie Wonder..._

Alexsei: Rora, you call me that again and so help me God I will-

_-interrupts- Well, I hope you enjoyed this really, really, REALLY long chapter! Please take the time to brighten an author's day and review!_


	4. The Unwilling Host

_**A/N: **All right, so it took me almost a month to update. For that, I apologize. After the standardized tests, I suddenly found myself being slammed with stuff to prep for my finals-not to mention, I was working one the first chapter of **Serpent's Moon**, a new fanfic that I'm writing with my good friend **Dr. Lust, **so...yeah..._

_I know, I know. Shut up with the excuses, deliver the damn chapter. I'm working on it! First off, I'd love to say thanks to **Kairi's-twin, musiclover209, SpeedDemon315, **and **Dr. Lust **for their wonderful reviews (seriously, one or two of them made me wanna cry, they were so nice )._

_**Disclaimer: **As much as it sucks, I don't own Van Helsing. That privilage belongs to Stephan Sommers._

**

* * *

**

Chapter Four: The Unwilling Host

Van Helsing brought the carriage to a halt outside of the Vatican-a place that was all too familiar to him. An unusual feeling washed over him as he dismounted from the driver's seat of the carriage…returning to the Vatican was almost like returning home after the week-long journey to reach the holy city. And, in a way, it was his home-it was the only home he had known for eight years.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a dark shape in the morning mists that wreathed the Vatican. It appeared to be a large wolf on two feet, a werewolf, and yet, Van Helsing took out no weapons to fight the creature. He knew it was only Alexsei, in his wolf-skin, and he also knew that Alexsei was regressing back into his human guise at that very moment. He opened the carriage door and extended his hand to help Gabrielle out of the carriage. She stepped out on shaky legs; she clutched a small, blanket-lined basket in which Nickelia slept soundly, and her pale face was tinged slightly green from a bit of motion sickness.

"Now I remember why I don't ride in carriages…or, at least I don't ride in the back…" she murmured darkly.

As the hunter helped his wife from the carriage, his keen hearing picked up the sounds of footsteps behind him, as though someone was leaving the basilica. A familiar old voice called out to him.

"Ah! At last, the prodigal son returns!" Carl teased as he hurried down the steps of the basilica, the very same steps where Carl and a few other holy men had first found Van Helsing nearly nine years earlier. His left arm was wrapped in bandages and bound up in a sling as it recovered from the injury dealt to him. His blue eyes were full of excitement as he ran towards his friends.

"Hello to you too, Carl," the hunter said, giving a small, rare smile.

Carl came scurrying over to greet everyone. Alexsei emerged from the mists, his human form restored, his torn clothes now even rattier from the return journey. As Carl greeted everyone, he noticed the basket Gabrielle clutched; a curious look passed over his face.

"What's in there, Gabrielle?" he asked, gesturing to it with his good arm.

Gabrielle beamed proudly, then reached into the basket, withdrew Nickelia, and set the basket down next to her feet, while cradling the baby in her arms. "Carl…say hello to me and Gabriel's daughter…"

"D-D-Daughter?!" Carl yelped in shock. He looked back and forth between the hunter and the queen in confusion. "B-But Van Helsing, you w-were only gone for t-three and a h-half months! That's n-not long enough f-for a n-normal gestation period, not even f-for a v-vampire, and-"

Gabrielle had to swallow a laugh at Carl. "Carl, I was never pregnant. Gabriel and I found her on our doorstep, and we took her in. Her name is Nickelia. Nickelia Adele Van Helsing."

At the sound of her name, Nickelia yawned and opened her eyes. She observed Carl for a moment through sleepy blue eyes, then gave a coo of content.

Van Helsing chuckled. "She likes you, Carl. She does that if she likes someone."

He beamed with pride. "Ah, well that's good!" His grin suddenly faded as he seemed to remember why Van Helsing had come all the way from Transylvania. "Right…about why you're here…come with me. Cardinal Jinette is awaiting us in the dungeons…"

A brief, grief-stricken look passed over Alexsei's face before he managed to regain his collected composure. Carl led everyone into the basilica, down a long, long hallway off-limits to the public, and down a narrow, spiraling staircase that was really off-limits to anyone but the slayers and precious few others.

The air at the bottom of the stairs was cooler; they had made it to the dungeons, obviously. Van Helsing felt a tremor of apprehension deep within him, down in his core. Why was Carl taking them to the dungeons? And why would Cardinal Jinette be meeting them there?

The foursome came to a halt in front of a large wooden door, inlaid with iron bars. A key hung on a ring next to the door; Carl used it to unbolt the door, but, with his minimal strength and an injured arm, he couldn't even make the door budge when he attempted to open it.

"Erm…Van Helsing…Alexsei…a little…help…please..?" he grunted as he pushed on the door. Alexsei simply sighed, then reached out and pressed upon it with one hand. It creaked open as though it weighed absolutely nothing at all.

The dungeon was not as Van Helsing had expected. He had expected it to be filthy, dark, and infested with rats or some other undesirable creatures. But the longer he looked around the dungeon-which was considerably clean, somewhat well-lit, and apparently free of the normal, loathsome dungeon creatures-he realized that his expectations had been a bit silly. The members of the Order may have hated the creatures they held in captivity, but it was, after all, the Vatican-they had to at least keep up appearances. Really, the only expectation of Van Helsing's that was met was the prisoners: They were all unkempt, with faces full of despair and hopelessness.

Van Helsing looked around, spotting the familiar red robes of Cardinal Jinette a ways down the hall. He started towards the cardinal, and Carl hurried after him, scurrying to keep up with the hunter's long stride.

"Now, Van Helsing, what you're about to see may come as a bit of a shock to you," he said, his voice gentle. "But please, Van Helsing, I beg of you to keep your calm, and not get angry. Because, in all honesty, Van Helsing, your temper scares me…"

Carl trailed off as the group reached the cell. Van Helsing looked into the cell, curious about Carl's words…and he received the shock of his lifetime.

Catherine was in the cell, her legs tucked under her, her head bowed low, an image of defeat. She looked like a mess-her hair was tangled and matted, her clothes were tattered and bloodied, and, from what he could see of her skin, she was sickly-looking, pale, and far thinner than Van Helsing remembered. But what disturbed-and angered-Van Helsing the most were the chains: Chains had bound Catherine's wrists together, and also bound them to the floor, and the hunter was sure her ankles were bound in a similar fashion. Her wings had unfurled from her back, and they, too, were bound, weighed down with thick, heavy chains that criss-crossed over each other, pulling her wings towards the floor in a fashion that hardly seemed comfortable. Van Helsing rounded on Jinette, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Cardinal Jinette, what's the meaning of this?!" he growled.

Cardinal Jinette looked up at the enraged hunter, his eyes unfeeling as steel. "Please, Van Helsing, keep that temper of yours under control. I'm sure that Mr. Dunkirk has filled you in on your sister's…_condition_…and you therefore know she is a danger to you and anyone else here…including your _wife _and _child…_

Jinette trailed off and glared coldly at Gabrielle. Gabrielle-who had been looking at Catherine with tears in her eyes-shot Jinette back a look that could've frozen Hell, it was so bitterly cold.

"She was not responsible for her actions!" the hunter argued back. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't she possessed-?"

A low, throaty chuckle echoed out in the cell. Everyone fell silent as the laughter rang out; glancing in the cell, everyone saw Catherine's shoulders were shaking with laughter.

"You speak as though this possession was a one-shot opportunity," Catherine purred. She then lifted her head…to reveal a face marred with cuts, and two lumiscent purple eyes staring back at them, two eyes lined with heavy, dark bruises underneath. "Oh, no…this was far from a mere one-shot opportunity…" Her eyes scanned the entire group before landing-and staying-on the hunter. "Well, well, well. Gabriel Van Helsing. And to think…I thought I'd never see you again…"

"Who the hell are you?" Van Helsing asked, his voice low and dangerous.

She gave another low, throaty chuckle. "I'm insulted, Gabriel…you don't remember me? Fine then…allow me to refresh your memory." She gave as much a bow as her chains would allow her to. "Alana Isabelle Tremarie…"

"The Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania," Gabrielle added softly. Catherine's eyes flickered over to her when she spoke; a glimmer of interest shone in her haunting amethyst orbs.

"Ah, yes…Valerious, isn't it? Oh, yes…Princess Gabrielle Valerious, the Gypsies' beloved damned princess," she purred. "What brings a vampire like you all the way to the Vatican-?" She stopped short when she saw the wedding band on Gabrielle's left hand, and she glanced at Nickelia, cradled in Gabrielle's arms. Her eyes narrowed as the realization came to her.

"I see…" she hissed. "So…she's the one you love…Yes, I see how it is…Allowed to love a vampire, but God forbid if you love a witch…"

"Leave Gabrielle out of this, you body-stealing succubae!" Alexsei growled.

"Stay out of this, mutt!" she snapped back at him. "These matters are between Gabriel and myself! Now, get your nose out of affairs that don't concern you or I shall be forced to do some permanent damage to your dearly beloved Catherine!"

"The hell you will…" Van Helsing growled, his voice soft and dangerous. "Now…what do you want, Alana?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "As if I'm going to reveal to you, of all people, my grand plans! If you wish to find out, you'll have to come find me!"

"All right, I will," Van Helsing said, accepting her challenge.

She chuckled softly yet cruelly, a strange sound coming from Catherine's mouth. "I knew you would, Gabriel. I know you _all _too well…Very well, then…tell you what, I shall make you a proposition. You have five days. Meet me in Budapest, and there, I shall inform you of what it is I want with your dear little sister…for a price…" She chuckled again. "Bring whatever companions you desire. Meet me at the gates of Vilkova Palace Cemetery at sundown on the fifth day." A suddenly malicious look crossed Catherine's often-kind face. "But be warned…if I arrive and you are not there, I shall have Catherine slaughter everyone in this damned place, then come after you and all your companions. Do we have an accord?"

Van Helsing's jaw clenched in anger. "Yes…"

She began to chuckle, but her laugh suddenly became a scream of anguish and torment. She doubled over, clutching her head, screaming in a bizarre mix of English and Romanian. Tears began to streak down her dirty, sickly face; she looked back up at everyone with pained dark-blue eyes. She was Catherine once more, for however long she could off Alana's control on her. She saw everyone gathered outside of her cell, and more tears streamed down her face.

Van Helsing heard a click, and Catherine's cell door slid open. By some random act of kindness Jinette never seemed to have, he had opened the door so any or all of them could go inside to comfort her. The hunter stepped inside the cell, approached his sister, and knelt in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Catherine…"

She looked up at him, tears still spilling over onto her cheeks. "G-Gabriel…oh m-my G-God, Gabriel…I-I've done…s-so many b-b-bad things…h-horrible, h-horrible things…I d-deserve to d-die…and t-the p-pain…the p-pain i-is maddening…t-to h-have _h-her_ inside m-my h-head…s-she doesn't l-leave…s-she n-never leaves…I h-have to f-fight…for h-her to l-leave me a-a-alone…f-for h-her to just l-leave me f-for f-five m-minutes…"

He reached out and gently stroked her messy, matted hair. "Catherine…you don't deserve to die. You _don't. _We're going to help you. All of us. We will help you…I promise you."

She gave a weak, shaky smile, then reached up and pulled at the cross that dangled around her neck. She held it out for her brother, who took it, turning it over in his hands curiously.

"T-Take that w-with y-you…A-Alana's a v-vampire…it w-w-will p-protect you…a-and remind y-you of m-me…" she told him. Van Helsing nodded, clasped the chain around his neck, and smoothed her hair again. She gave another weak smile, then glanced up at Gabrielle, who had moved to stand beside her husband. She gave a small sigh when she saw Nickelia cradled in Gabrielle's arms.

"S-She's precious…" Catherine said. "I-Is she…m-my n-niece?"

Gabrielle beamed proudly. "Yes. Catherine, meet your niece, Nickelia Adele Van Helsing."

"S-She's…s-she's…" But whatever it was that Catherine wanted to say, she never said it, She suddenly doubled over again, coughing loudly. The sound echoed off the walls of her cell; her face looked pained as she kept coughing. To everyone's surprise, a dark-red fluid spattered the floor in front of Catherine, and it dripped from her lips.

"My God…" Gabrielle whispered. "That's…that's blood…"

Catherine's coughs stopped abruptly, and her eyes began to close. She started to slump forward, and Van Helsing reached for her, but Alexsei caught her before she slumped all the way to the floor.

She was unconscious before she even hit the floor.

* * *

"Let me get this straight: Catherine's being possessed, and you managed to catch her and put her in a cell, but you couldn't catch the miserable wretch who's possessing her?"

Van Helsing, Gabrielle, and Alexsei stood, talking to Jinette and Carl. They were in the armory, tucked away in Carl's little corner. Van Helsing eyed Jinette with a small scowl on his face, angered slightly by what he had just heard.

"I'm afraid so, Van Helsing," Carl said, fiddling with something on his workbench. "Sometime during the…the…oh, well, for lack of a better word, the _massacre_…Alana had Catherine set her free…"

"Does anyone know where we can find Alana?" Gabrielle asked.

Alexsei shifted his weight slightly. "I do…but the manor she and the rest of the Drakebane coven inhabit is heavily guarded. It took a small army of Vatican slayers just to get past her original guards, and I have no doubt she's replenished her guards to make up for the ones we killed last time…"

_Drakebane…_That word danced annoyingly within the hunter's head. It was the name of a coven, a vampire coven, and it sounded so _familiar, _just as Alana Tremarie's name had…

_They're connected…_he thought to himself. _Alana's head of the Drakebane coven, but…are they both connected to me? Are they a part of that past that's unknown to me? Catherine would know…she could tell me…but damn, she's in no condition to tell me…_ His thoughts suddenly changed, from pondering the mystery of the Drakebane coven and the evil vampiric witch, to concern for his sister's welfare. _She's so upset…so terrified…so ashamed of what she's done…And she's sick. She was coughing up blood. That never means anything good…_

"There is always Alana's plan…her compromise, if you could call it that," Alexsei's voice shook the hunter from his reverie. "That Gabriel and any companions of his choosing meet her at Vilkova Cemetery in five days' time. That could work…"

Jinette sniffed in disdain. "Striking up a bargain with the Devil's mistress…"

Gabrielle shot him another chilling look. Ice-blue halos ringed her grey irises. "Well, _Your Eminence, _it seems that 'striking up a bargain with the Devil's mistress' is the best option we have to redeem Catherine from possession, so I say Alexsei has the best plan. Who's with me?"

"I am," Alexsei said.

Van Helsing nodded. "As am I."

Carl nodded too, his turned-up hair ends bobbing. "Aye…I'm with Gabrielle."

Jinette saw that the others did not share the same disdain he had in bargaining with a vampire, and he sighed, holding up his hands in defeat. "All right, then…" He turned to the hunter. "You are to take whoever you desire with you to Budapest to meet with Alana Tremarie and find out whatever it is she wants." He gave another sigh. "She is far beyond any hopes of rehabilitation. She cannot be trained as a huntress. You will have to kill her, Van Helsing. Kill her at all costs."

The hunter was slightly irked that Jinette seemed disappointed about Alana's fate. In his opinion, her sins warranted her fate. But, as he often did in the presence of Jinette, he held his tongue. "I will kill her."

He turned towards the armory, heading to grab his bag so Carl could fill it full of weapons, but Jinette's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Your time is limited. Alana Tremarie must be dead within three weeks."

The hunter whirled around, an incredulous look on his face. "Three weeks? That's _it_? Your Eminence, with all _due respect_-" A heavy amount of sarcasm dripped from his voice at these words. "-Three weeks is simply too short a timeframe to effectively kill this wretch of a vampire. Not with how powerful she is. She has the power to possess people's bodies, a power Dracula never had, not even in his wildest dreams. The closest he got was controlling a person's will. She may very well be even more powerful than Dracula!"

"Gabriel's right," Alexsei spoke up softly. "Alana is powerful. It's nearly impossible to possess a creature as strong as a fallen angel and as trained a huntress as Catherine. It will not be easy to kill her…"

"As it is, it will take us almost a week to reach Budapest. We can make it in five days, but just barely," Gabrielle added. "And we cannot kill Alana then. She's a clever fiend. She didn't earn a title such as the Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania because she was foolish. She'll expect us to try to kill her then, and she'll stop us withholding valuable information. Can't you see, Your Eminence? We simply need more time."

"Gah!" Nickelia added at the end, as if to prove a point, before returning to her task of trying to stick her toes in her mouth.

Jinette sighed, as if Alexsei, Gabrielle, and Van Helsing were all rather dimwitted children. "None of you understand, not in the least. It is imperative that you complete this assignment and kill Alana within three weeks!"

"Give us a reason why, then!" Gabrielle hissed.

Jinette turned to Carl, giving Carl a look. Carl's eyes widened, and he swallowed nervously.

"Me?" he squeaked. "But…But Your Eminence! Why do I have to tell them?"

Jinette raised an eyebrow, and the friar instantly took on the persona of a scolded puppy. His head ducked beneath his shoulders, and, if he had a tail, it would've been between his legs. He sighed and turned to the others.

"Van Helsing…Gabrielle…Alexsei…" he said nervously. "T-The reason…y-you must c-complete this a-a-assignment in…in t-three weeks…is b-because if y-you…if you d-don't…"

"If we don't?" Van Helsing prompted.

Carl looked up, his blue eyes filled with sorrow. "If y-you don't…Catherine…C-Catherine will _die_…"

* * *

Van Helsing: _-rounds on authoress like an enraged rhino- _**DIE??**

_Yes, Van Helsing. Die. Please...don't kill me!_

Van Helsing: _-looks very tempted to strangle authoress- _Give me one good reason why I shouldn't, Aurora, or I'm feeding you to Gabrielle!

_-nervously eyes Gabrielle- Well...without me, this story couldn't not continue, and I know why it is Catherine's life is in danger, and I know some other secrets too, and you guys don't know them, and so, without me, you'd never know because those secrets I would take to my grave..._

Alexsei: Damn, she's good...

Gabrielle: I'll say. That was a pretty good...pretty good...oh, what is it you call those things? With the logic?

_You mean the Crushing Grip of Logic?_

Gabrielle: Yeah, that's it! Anyways, that's a pretty good Crushing Grip of Logic!

Van Helsing: ...I. Hate. You. Aurora.

_Love you too, Helsing-kun!_

Alexsei: I'm sensing a fight coming on...

_Well, before that happens, I'll take my leave, and I shall leave you all with two things: A request for reviews, AND...-drumroll- A song! This song is absolutely perfect for Catherine in her current state, especially between possessions. It's called **"It's The Fear" **by **Within Temptation **(Album: **The Silent Force**) Enjoy!_

* * *

**"It's The Fear"-Within Temptation**

It waits for the day  
I will let it out  
Give it a reason  
To give it its might

I fear who I am becoming  
I fear that I'm losing  
The struggle within  
I can no longer restrain it  
My strength, it is fading  
I have to give in

_It's the fear  
_Fear of the dark  
It's growing inside of me  
That one day will come to life  
_Have to save  
_To save my beloved  
There is no escape  
Because my faith is horror and doom

Hold down your head now  
Just let me pass by  
Don't feed my fear  
If you don't want it out

I fear who I am becoming  
I fear that I'm losing  
All beauty within  
I can no longer restrain it  
My strength, it is fading  
I have to give in

_It's the fear  
_Fear of the dark  
It's growing inside of me  
That one day will come to life  
_Have to save  
_To save my beloved  
There is no escape  
Because my faith is horror and doom

Long ago, it came to me  
And ever since that day  
Infected with its rage  
But it ends today

_It's the fear  
_Fear of the dark  
It's growing inside of me  
That one day will come to life  
_Have to save  
_To save my beloved  
There is no escape  
Because my faith is horror and doom


	5. Our Seperate Ways

_**A/N: **Hello, hello, hello! As always, sorry about the delay. Lots of things happening...I have a life now, during the summer! Hurray! Anyways...thanks for all your patience, and thank you to **Dr. Lust, SpeedDemon315, **and **Kairi's-twin **for the reviews! Also, I'd like to say goodbye to **Dr. Lust**, who's going away on vacation and won't be back until September. I'll miss you lots, my dear friend!_

_**Disclaimer: **Sorry, I still don't own any of the Van Helsing characters. But I still own my own characters. _

* * *

Chapter Five: Our Separate Ways

At Carl's words, those terrible words, Van Helsing felt his heart come to a dead stop in his chest. At his side, all the color drained from Gabrielle's normally-ashen face, and her jaw dropped slightly, which she covered with her hand in a ladylike fashion. In her arms, Nickelia whimpered, as if she understood what was going on and it upset her, too.

The most heartbreaking and heartbroken reaction, however, came from Alexsei. He closed his eyes, his head dropping a little, his lips trembling and pressed together. A hand went to his face, over his eyes; his hand was trembling, too. He tried so hard not to burst into loud sobs, but his shoulders shook, and a few tears trickled down his face.

"D-D-Die?" Gabrielle whispered, the first to recover.

Carl's head dropped even more, this time in sorrow, not in fear. "Y-Yes…unless A-Alana is d-dead b-before t-t-three weeks is u-up…C-Catherine will d-die…"

A long moment of silence passed. Finally, Van Helsing managed to recover from his shock, or at least enough to murmur one word: "How?"

Carl sighed. "Well, I, erm…I l-looked into f-fallen a-angels a b-bit…as it t-turns out…fallen angels h-have only t-two weaknesses: V-Vampire venom and s-spiritual darkness. Y-You see, if a f-fallen angel like C-Catherine is b-bitten by a v-vampire, and r-receives t-their venom…the v-venom acts a-as a poison, and s-shut d-down her nervous and m-muscular s-systems…b-basically, she w-would b-be s-slowly paralyzed, and w-would die w-within twenty-four h-hours…"

Van Helsing's brow furrowed. "A-And…the s-spiritual darkness?"

Carl gave another heavy sigh. "T-The spiritual d-darkness…it's different…The c-concept of s-spiritual d-darkness is t-tricky to e-explain, but s-spiritual d-darkness is s-something l-like w-what Alana is d-doing to h-her…o-overpowering h-her with d-dark m-magic. A f-fallen a-angel cannot h-handle d-dark magic, nor c-can it h-handle s-spiritual impurity. C-Catherine's b-body is s-slowly s-shutting down…f-from the p-possessions…"

Gabrielle tried to calm Nickelia's cries, all the while holding back tears of her own. "Is that w-why she…w-why she w-was c-coughing blood..?"

Carl nodded. "Now…after a few c-centuries, many f-fallen angels b-build up a stronger resistance to the s-spiritual darkness…hence why Catherine has lasted as long as s-she has…and why s-she can s-survive for t-three more w-weeks…but after t-that…"

Carl trailed off, but there was no need for him to continue. Everyone could practically hear Carl's unspoken words: After three weeks, it would be hopeless. After three weeks, Catherine would die.

Jinette moved around the table, to Van Helsing's side. "You must kill her, my good son," he said, in a tone that was surprisingly soft and gentle for the often-irate cardinal. "And you must do it in three weeks. It's the only way to save your beloved sister from a terrible fate."

Van Helsing nodded resolutely. "I'll do it."

Alexsei, whose heart-rending sobs seemed to have subsided temporarily, nodded as well. "And I'll accompany him."

"As shall I," Carl chimed in, putting on a brave face.

"And I," Gabrielle said, straightening up.

"Ah, good," Jinette said with the tiniest of nods. "Carl, you know what they're up against. Help them get prepared for their assignment. I'll send word to a stable-hand to prepare some horses."

Jinette departed in one direction, while Carl went in another, towards the main armory, with Alexsei on his tail. Gabrielle moved to follow, but in a split second, the hunter's arm reached out, and his hand fell upon her shoulder. She stopped, then turned to face her husband.

"What is it, Gabriel?"

"Gabrielle…" He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "Gabrielle…please go back home. Please…please don't come…"

"What?! But…why? Or, rather, why not?"

Another heavy sigh. "I'm worried for you, Gabrielle. For your safety. And Nickelia's too…" He reached out to gently stroke his daughter's tuft of dark hair. "I'm…I'm not sure of Alana's relation to me, but I…I'm getting the feeling that she bears some strong ill against me, but she's not afraid to take it out on you…"

"But Gabriel, it's only a feeling. It's not yet set in stone…"

"I'd rather not take any chances," Van Helsing gently argued. "Gabrielle…you're so important to me. You and Nickelia both. If anything happened to you, to either of you, especially because of one of my assignments I would never be able to forgive myself…"

"Gabriel…" Gabrielle's soft but cold hands came to rest on his face. "I can assure you…nothing's going to happen to me. But…I don't want to worry you. If it makes you feel better…I'll go back to Vaseria. But the first hint of trouble, I'm coming back and I'll find you, wherever you are…"

A small smile played across Van Helsing's face, and he pulled Gabrielle into an embrace, being mindful that she was still cradling a now-sleeping Nickelia in her arms.

"I love you so much…" he whispered into her wonderfully silky raven hair. He held her in his arms longer; a soft song began to escape his lips:

_I close both locks below the window  
__I close both blinds and turn away  
__Sometimes solutions aren't so simple  
__Sometimes good-bye's the only way_

_And the sun will set for you  
__The sun will set for you  
__And the shadow of the day  
__Will embrace the world in gray  
__And the sun will set for you_

_In cards and flowers on your window  
__Your friends all plead for you to stay  
__Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple  
__Sometimes good-bye's the only way_

_And the sun will set for you  
__The sun will set for you  
__And the shadow of the day  
__Will embrace the world in gray  
__And the sun will set for you_

_And the shadow of the day of the day  
__Will embrace the world in gray  
__And the sun will set for you_

_And the shadow of the day  
__Will embrace the world in gray  
__And the sun will set for you_

Van Helsing felt Gabrielle's arms tighten slightly around his waist. "Be careful, Gabriel," she told him. "You'll be home in one piece, and that's an order."

He nodded, lifting her chin to look into her soul-piercing eyes. "An order I'll be glad to follow."

* * *

Leaves and sticks on the ground seemed to tremble as the team of horses galloped through the mountain pass just outside of Budapest. The carriage wheels rattled like crazy as the carriage-bearing the traditional Valerious family coat of arms, comprised of two rapiers crossed behind a crucifix-was pulled along behind the team of horses. Every small imperfection in the narrow dirt 

trail, every small twig or stone, caused the carriage to rattle around even more. Gabrielle was amazed that Nickelia-who was sleeping soundly within the carriage-had yet to let out even one small cry.

She sighed as she yanked on the reins, slowing the horses to a safer speed as they rounded a curve in the path that dropped off into a very steep gorge on one side. Those of the noble, proud-and often very stubborn-Valerious bloodline always stood tall, proud, and armed for battle in the face of adversity. No one in the Valerious family ever ran from an opponent. _Never._

And what was Gabrielle doing? Running back to the safety of Vaseria while Van Helsing and all the other men went to battle.

_But I'm not running away by choice, _her mind argued. _I'm running away because I don't want to worry Gabriel. God…I want to be fighting beside Gabriel…But I don't want to worry him. He's always so worried, about me, about everyone besides himself. I'd love to see him happy and not so worried for at least once…_

Suddenly, something slammed into the side of the side of the carriage, jarring it roughly. Gabrielle's hand shot out, her lengthening nails digging into the upholstery of the driver's seat to keep herself from being pitched off the carriage and into the dense woods that now surrounded the carriage.

"What in hell..?" she murmured to herself as she sat back up. She waited for Nickelia to start shrieking-surely, that last impact to the side of the carriage woke her up-but all her keen hearing picked up was the sound of a baby's deep, even breathing of sleep.

But before she could breathe a sigh of relief, sharp talons dug into her back, and something lifted her from the seat of the carriage. Her assailant tossed her into the deep forests, as easily as if she was a rag doll; she heard loud whinnies as someone-or _something_-attacked the horses, forcing the carriage to stop.

Gabrielle hit the ground hard enough to send her head spinning and knock the breath from her. But she wasn't down for long-strong hands grabbed her by her shoulders and the tops of her arms, lifting her from the ground and dragging her back towards the pass trail.

"Damn you! Let me go!" she snarled, struggling as she was dragged. "Hey! Are you brutes deaf or flat-out brainless? I said-!"

A strong hand clapped over her mouth, muffling her outraged cries. A man chuckled. "Ah, still the same little spitfire she's always been. I do love the spirited ones. But by the Dark Lord, she's so loud I can barely hear myself think!"

Gabrielle struggled to free herself, but the man's grip on her face was tight. Finally, she parted her lips and attacked the man's palm with her razor-sharp fangs. The metallic, coppery tang of blood exploded on her tongue…but this blood was cold and thick as it slithered down her throat, not warm and so easy to swallow, as human blood was.

It was vampiric blood in her mouth. Her captors were vampiric.

The man whipped his hand away with an angry hiss, inspecting his bitten palm. A second later, his hand made contact with the side of her face, sending her head spinning for the second time in less than ten minutes. Something cold and wet smeared across her cheek; she realized the man had struck her with the same hand she had bitten.

They finally cleared the trees, and were back on the trail. Gabrielle's captors forced her to her knees; there was the sounds of wings cutting through the air, and a dark shadow passed overhead, before touching down before them.

It was a vampiress who landed before them, one in her demonic form, with sickly gray skin, massive talons for nails, wild, raven-black hair, and somewhat grotesque features. But as she landed, she metamorphosed; her large, gargoyle-like wings dropped limply, draping themselves over her form in the form of a long, form-fitting purple dress. Her skin paled, from sickly gray to white and pristine as snow, and her ice-blue eyes turned to a brown that seemed just as icy as the blue.

Gabrielle's captors bowed respectfully, while Gabrielle herself gasped. She knew exactly who she was facing…

"My God…so,_ you're_ Alana Tremarie…" she said.

Alana's head turned, her brown eyes locking on the captured queen. "Ah…Princess Gabrielle Valerious? So, we met again! Running back home with your tail set firmly between your legs, I see." She scoffed in disdain. "Whining coward of a vampire. Won't even help your husband to save the life of your sister-in-law and your best friend…"

"You _bitch!_" Gabrielle growled, making a lunge for Alana. She simply snapped her fingers, however, and the two guards at her side dug their nails deep into Gabrielle's arms, restraining her. Alana approached her and struck her soundly across the face, opening four large gashes across her cheek.

"You should learn to watch your tongue, Princess," she warned. "I'm rather intolerant of whiny _fledglings _who decide to act cheeky with me. And let me assure you…compared to some vampires, I'm rather tolerant-"

A soft cry met the sensitive ears of all the vampires. It was coming from the carriage; Alana left Gabrielle's side, strolling towards the carriage, opening the door…and taking out Nickelia. She gently cradled the baby in her arms, and a soft look came to her cold brown eyes.

"There, there, little one," she cooed. "No need for tears…"

"Nickelia!" Gabrielle cried in shocked outrage. She started struggling even harder against her captors, not caring when the nails digging into her arms tore her flesh in an effort to keep her restrained. "No! Don't you dare touch her, Alana! Alana, I swear to God you do anything to hurt Nickelia and I'll tear your flesh from your bones, you loathsome wretch!"

Alana gave a sigh of disdain and annoyance. "Take Miss Valerious-oh, wait, I meant Mrs. Van Helsing-back to the manor. Place her in a secure cell. And Matthias…watch over her. Show her what happens to sassy fledglings who can't hold their tongues…"

The blonde vampire on Gabrielle's left chuckled. "With pleasure, my mistress…"

Alana turned away, still cradling Nickelia, who was still whimpering, distressed by Gabrielle's shouts. She gently rocked the baby back and forth, calming her. "There, there, little Nickelia," she cooed sweetly. "There's no need for tears. I'm here…I'm going to take _wonderful _care of you…"

* * *

Gabrielle: Aurora...

_Yes?_

Gabrielle: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!

_Why? Why are you going to kill me? Killing is bad!_

Van Helsing: Well, I may not be too far behind in the way of helping Gabrielle kill you...

_Et tu, Gabriel? Why the hell would you two want to kill me?_

Van Helsing: Gee, I don't know...maybe the fact that you're trying to kill Catherine?!

Gabrielle: And that you just had evil incarnate kidnap our daughter?!

_But are those really grounds to kill me..?_

Van Helsing and Gabrielle: YES!

Alexsei: _-moves in front of authoress to protect her-_Guys...don't kill her! We need her to finish the story!

Alana: _-comes down stairs and perches on kitchen counter- _Yes, please do not kill her. I rather like the direction this story is going in...

_Alana? Where the hell did you come from? And how did you get in? Please tell me you didn't come through a window...or try to come down the chimney..._

Alana: No. You left your bedroom window open, you stupid teenager.

_Oooops...I meant to close that...and who are you calling stupid teenager?!_

Van Helsing: _-moves to grab crossbow- _What do you want?

Alana: I'm stepping in for your sister, since she's...out of commission. And Aurora...isn't there something else you wanted to say?

_Yeah, there was...Okay, I have a contest this time. You know the song earlier in the chapter? The one that Van Helsing was singing? The contest is to **name the song and the band that sings it**. The winner will recieve...okay, I don't know what the winner will recieve, but I'll think of something! Well, until next time, my lovely readers! Please review!_


	6. Budapest's Welcoming Party

_**A/N: **Hello, everyone! Well, hopefully, this update was quick enough for everyone-I know I left a huge cliffhanger last time! Anyways...thanks to **SpeedDemon315, iccy, Knight of dreams, musiclover209, **and **Kairi's-twin **for the reviews!_

_And to answer the contest question, the song is "**Shadow of the Day" **by **Linkin Park. **Congratulations to **SpeedDemon315 **for being the first one to get the correct answer! Though I'm not sure what the prize is..._

_**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Van Helsing..._

* * *

Chapter Six: Budapest's Welcoming Party

Van Helsing slowed his stallion as he rode into the south side of Buda, the more palatial and well-kept half of the city of Budapest. Alexsei and Carl weren't too far behind, both of them on horseback. With it only five days before Christmas, Budapest was bitterly cold; Carl shivered under his multiple layers of clothes, and even Van Helsing could feel the bite of the cold through his coat. Only Alexsei seemed immune to the chill, despite the fact that he only wore his worn navy coat over his threadbare shirt and leggings.

Carl glanced over at Alexsei as they rode through the streets, heading towards Vilkova Cemetery. "Alexsei, how is it that you can run around in nothing more than those worn and ratty clothes and not be freezing?"

"Simple," Alexsei responded. "It's the lycanthropic blood in my veins. Supernatural creatures are far less susceptible to the cold than humans." The faintest hint of a small-his first smile in days-creased Alexsei's lips. "It also rather helps that the blood in my veins is naturally a few degrees warmer than mortal blood…"

"Hmm," Carl mused. "Sounds as though being a werewolf isn't so horrible…"

"Painful transformations, uncontrollable rages, and constant bloodlust…I think I'd prefer being a human, or, in my case, something similar to one…" Van Helsing commented from the front of the trio. After a moment of awkward silence, however, he realized his mistake and glanced over his shoulder at Alexsei. "No offense to you, Alexsei."

Alexsei waved his hand nonchalantly; the comment had not bothered him. "It's all right. You're correct about what you just mentioned…transformations are always painful, and the rages and bloodlust are all a part of being a werewolf." He sighed, his eyes staring ahead rather blankly. "One gets used to it after a few centuries…"

Once again, the group faded into silence as they moved through the city. They were off in their own worlds, yet, they were all thinking the same thing: They were all thinking and worrying about Catherine. Time was going fast…their three weeks had dwindled to almost two weeks. Time was fast running out for Catherine…

The trio arrived at the gates of Vilkova Cemetery about half an hour before sundown. Van Helsing expected questions from the gatekeeper-after all, what would three grown men be doing in a palace cemetery half an hour before sundown, besides unsavory deeds such as grave robbing? However, the gatekeeper-a rather small and slim figure shrouded in a heavy black cloak that hid both their body and face-simply nodded, letting them pass without question.

"We've made Alana's deadline, haven't we?" Carl asked anxiously.

Alexsei nodded. "Just barely. It's been five days since we left Rome. She'll be expecting us…We can see what it is she wants, and why it is she's doing what she's doing to Catherine…"

Something snapped audibly nearby, startling Carl so much he nearly fell from his saddle. He looked around nervously. "What was that?"

"I'm sure it was nothing, Carl," Van Helsing said calmly. "I can assure you, there's nothing coming to get us-"

"_GABRIEL, LOOK OUT!" _Alexsei yelled suddenly, but his cries came a split-second too late. Van Helsing caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision field, and whatever it was, it blindsided him, sending him from his saddle and tumbling to the base of a nearby tombstone. He quickly got to his feet, his hands going for the twin revolvers at his waist. He could hear Alexsei and Carl dismounting behind him, coming to his side. His keen hazel eyes darted around the graveyard, searching for whatever had attacked him; his senses had sharpened drastically now that he was the hunter.

A screech rang out in the air, a horrible and peculiar screech. It sounded like the shriek of an enraged vampire, but there was something…_wrong _about it. There was a most peculiar undertone to it…almost like the snarl of an enraged werewolf. A large, misshapen dark shadow passed overhead…and something landed less than ten yards from the trio.

It was like nothing any of them had ever seen before. It appeared to be a werewolf, which towered over the entire group at roughly six and a half feet tall, and had the same slim, sinewy build of a human female. The werewolf was covered in thick, brown fur that seemed to have a bit of reddish tinge to it. But…then came the unnatural things. For instance, the werewolf's eyes were not a burning yellow color as every other werewolf's eyes were…no, they were a haunting blood-red color, full of fury and untamed ferocity. The werewolf snarled, showing off a mouthful of dangerously sharp teeth…but the canines were unusually sharp and pointed, another strange feature for a werewolf.

But perhaps the strangest part of the werewolf's features were its vast wings; a pair of leathery, bat-like wings spanning at least twenty-five feet from tip to tip, if not more. The wings were a deep tan in color, with dark lines through them where the bones and veins resided. Towards the bottoms of the wings, where the bones and veins ended, were sharp pinions; pinions also crowned these vast wings. The wings seemed to have grown out of the werewolf's back, starting near the werewolf's shoulder blades and ending far down the back, near the tops of the legs.

Clearly, this was no ordinary werewolf.

"W-What in t-the n-name of a-all that is g-g-good and h-holy is _t-that_?!" Carl yelped, pointing at the creature with a shaking finger.

"I don't know, Carl…" Van Helsing replied quietly. He had never seen a creature like that in his entire existence. That rather bothered him, the fact that he currently had no idea as to what he was up against.

Suddenly, the creature lunged, aiming for the hunter. Upon instinct, Van Helsing ducked; the creature soared over him, snarling angrily, missing the top of the hunter's head by mere inches. However, Van Helsing made a critical error: He forgot about the creature's wings. The fact that the creature could change directions in midair greatly improved its reaction time…It changed direction quickly, then came back towards Van Helsing, sharp teeth bared…

A snarl rang out in the air, and a blurred black shape collided with the winged monstrosity, knocking it out of the air. It was a fully-transformed Alexsei; he took the winged wolf to the ground, clawing at it and snarling something fierce. The creature responded with its own awful shriek, and engaged in battle with Alexsei. For what seemed like hours, but may have only been minutes, Alexsei traded blows with the beast, while Van Helsing and Carl stood to the side, unable to help at all. His twin revolvers rested in his hands, but Van Helsing didn't dare fire; the chance he could hit and potentially kill Alexsei was too great for Van Helsing to risk.

They both seemed evenly matched; Alexsei may have been less powerful than the creature, but he had three centuries of experience as a werewolf to make up for that. They were fast coming to a stalemate in their battle…

And then…then creature brought its claws down diagonally across Alexsei's face, shredding through his pitch-colored fur and the skin underneath as if it were papyrus. By sheer luck, Alexsei had turned his head just enough that the claws missed his left eye. Five long gashes appeared along the left side of Alexsei's face, starting near his large, slightly tapered ears, traveling downward, passing just under his left eye, and stopping only after they crawled over his muzzle. Alexsei howled in pain, putting his human-hand-like paws to his shredded face, which was presently gushing blood. This gave the creature the opportunity it needed-it pushed Alexsei aside, slamming him into a nearby headstone, before lunging at its original target: the hunter.

The creature pounced for the hunter, taking him to the ground before he could even think duck out of the way. Both revolvers were knocked from his grip, though not before he had fired off a shot from both guns. A bullet winged the creature's arm, but that hardly fazed the creature; all it seemed to do was enrage the creature even more as it pinned Van Helsing to the ground. The creature's long, razor teeth gleamed before his eyes; its ruby eyes shone like jewels from Hell's pits as it leaned in towards the hunter's throat, bathing his face and neck with its hot breath…

Another dark shadow passed overhead, followed by the soft whoosh of wings disturbing air. A small tap, one that sounded like boot heels descending upon stone, echoed out not too far away, and a female voice rang out.

"Nickelia! That's enough!" a cold, commanding voice with a Romanian accent thick as molasses called. The creature, which had been only heartbeats away from tearing out Van Helsing's throat, glanced upward, then stood.

As it stood, something peculiar happened. The creature seemed to be losing muscle mass and stature in the space of heartbeats. The feminine physique stayed, filling out more as the moments progressed, while the thick, strawberry-brunette fur retracted, until there was just enough to cover the head, and even that changed; it grew out, tumbling out the shoulders. The vast wings wrapped themselves around the body like a cocoon, and as soon as they did, even that changed: They instantaneously draped around the body, becoming a blood-red dress with a plunging neckline, fashionably slit sleeves, and black trim around the collar and the slits in the sleeves. When it was all said and done, a young woman, approximately eighteen years of age, stood over the hunter, a foot on his chest, but her striking emerald eyes focused on whoever it was who had just joined them in the graveyard. Van Helsing twisted his head slightly, to see who had just called off the creature-or girl-who had called off the attack on him.

It was as if he was staring at a dark reflection of his beloved Gabrielle. She had the same long raven hair as Gabrielle, and the same pale skin, delicate features, and sinewy build. But her eyes 

were not Gabrielle's soul-piercing gray, but a brown deep and cold as a winter's night. She wore a dress like that of the creature-girl but a rich purple in color, not blood-red; she wore a black cloak over it.

She may have looked similar to Gabrielle, but she was _clearly _not Gabrielle.

_Alana Tremarie_, the hunter's mind told him.

Alana surveyed the scene in the graveyard: Van Helsing, pinned to the ground by the mysterious creature-girl, who he could've sworn was named Nickelia; Alexsei, who had regressed into his human form and was clutching his torn and shredded face, still gushing blood, and Carl, who was trying to help Alexsei tend to his bloody mess. A smirk played out on her blood-red lips.

"Ah…very well done, my pet" she cooed to the creature-girl. "Very well done…"

The creature-girl smiled, and Van Helsing caught a glimpse of sharpened fangs under her lips. "Your words are too kind, Mother…"

"Mother?!" Carl gasped in shock.

Alana grinned, showing off her sharp fangs. "Yes, you pitifully mindless friar. _Nickelia _is my daughter…"

It took a moment for Alana's taunt to completely sink in and unveil its hidden meaning to the hunter. But when it did…it filled the hunter with a rage the likes of which no one had never seen. He started to try to fight his way out from under Nickelia.

"You _wretch!_" he shouted at Alana. "You _vile _wretch!"

Alana's lips instantly dropped into a frown. "Oh…still as sharp with the tongue as always, I see, Gabriel. But you really should know better than to speak to a lady that way…"

"Shall we teach him a lesson, Mother?" Nickelia asked eagerly.

"Ah, my thoughts exactly," Alana purred. "You may do the honors, my dear daughter…"

Before Van Helsing knew what was happening, Nickelia had him by the throat, her emerald eyes glowing blood-red around the edges. She grinned at him, then, with strength un-thought of for a girl so small, she tossed Van Helsing across the graveyard. Pain exploded in the back of his skull, and ripped up and down his spine as he struck a large tombstone.

The last things he heard before he was overtaken by darkness were Alexsei and Carl's yells, mixed with the maniacal laughter of Alana and her stolen daughter.

* * *

Van Helsing: Aurora...

_What now..?_

Van Helsing: Why must you be so cruel?

Alexsei: I'm with him. You're starting to just become evil, Aurora

Alana: I don't know why you two are complaining! I'm having a grand time with our lovely authoress!

Van Helsing: You're only having a good time because things are going your way!

_God...how long am I going to have to listen to this..?_

Van Helsing: You brought it upon yourself, you know that right?

_Aren't you supposed to be unconscious, Van Helsing?_

Alana: Allow me!

_Ah, ah, ah! No violence in this house, Alana. Remember, I don't care if you can completely and totally whip my butt, I am in charge..._

Alana: Fine...

_All right...so, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I know that I left you with another cliffhanger-as well as quite a few surprises-and please review! I also have a little something for you guys: A song. This song I believe to fit Alana perfectly (and it's a song I rather like). It's called "**Coming Undone" **by **Korn **(it's one of the few Korn songs I like, too). Lyrics are below, please enjoy:_

Keep holding on  
When my brain's ticking like a bomb  
Guess the black thoughts have come  
Again to get me

Sweet bitter words  
Unlike nothing I have heard  
Sing along, mockingbird  
You don't affect me

That's right  
Deliverance of my heart  
Be straight  
Be deliberate

Wait, I'm coming undone  
Unlaced, I'm coming undone  
Too late, I'm coming undone  
What looks so strong  
So delicate  
Wait, I'm starting to suffocate  
And soon I anticipate  
I'm coming undone  
What looks so strong  
So delicate

Choke, choke again  
I thought my demons were my friends  
Getting me in the end  
They're out to get me  
Since I was young  
I tasted sorrow on my tongue  
And this sweet chugga gun  
Does not protect me

That's right  
Trigger between my eyes  
Please strike  
Make it quick now

Wait, I'm coming undone  
Unlaced, I'm coming undone  
Too late, I'm coming undone  
What looks so strong  
So delicate  
Wait, I'm starting to suffocate  
And soon I anticipate  
I'm coming undone  
What looks so strong  
So delicate

I'm trying to hold it together  
Head is lighter than a feather  
Looks like I'm not getting better  
Not getting better

Wait, I'm coming undone  
Unlaced, I'm coming undone  
Too late, I'm coming undone  
What looks so strong  
So delicate  
Wait, I'm starting to suffocate  
And soon I anticipate  
I'm coming undone  
What looks so strong  
So delicate

_So...that's just my opinion. As always, you don't have to agree with me...Read, review, and please check out the new poll on my homepage pertaining to Hybrid Dawn, the potential sequel!_


	7. Hope, The Only Candlelight

_**A/N: **Hola, my lovely readers! I'm sorry if this chapter took an insanely long time to post...honestly, I can't remember the last time I posted a chapter. About which, I'm really, really sorry...Anyways, thanks to **SpeedDemon315 **and **Kairi's-twin **for your reviews!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Van Helsing...and I don't own Matthias. Matthias, I have to thank my friend for..._

* * *

Chapter Seven: Hope-The Only Candlelight

Gabrielle stared ahead bleakly at the expanse of grey stone wall that was before her. Her unwashed face was smeared with dirt and left-behind evidence of blood tears she had cried. Her clothes were filthy and torn, and through the rips in her clothing, scars could be seen on her snowy skin along with the occasional half-healed wound. Her arms hung limply at her side, weighed down by the shackles around her wrists. Shackles that, try as she might, she couldn't break-Alana was no fool, Gabrielle had to concede. She knew Gabrielle would've snapped ordinary shackles with barely any effort.

She licked her pale red lips. Her thirst had rose to a torturous point now…she'd been locked in that God-forsaken cell for three days now, but not given a single drop of blood, animal or otherwise.

_Yet another way to keep me from escaping this wretched cell, _she mused sourly. _Refuse to spare me any blood and deprive me of my strength. Of course, hardly necessary, seeing as Alana was clever enough to invest in vampire-proof chains…_

_Just my luck…_

Her sensitive ears picked up the sounds of footsteps coming down the staircase that led down into the dungeons. At first, she assumed it to merely be one of the guards coming down to make sure her chains were unbroken and her spirits were low. But…she heard several pairs of footsteps, not just one pair. She could make out five pairs of feet-three of the five belonged to men, presumably guards, judging by how heavy their footsteps were. The other two among the group were women-wearing heeled boots, judging by the tapping sounds.

As the footsteps became louder, Gabrielle's sensitive nose picked up the scents of the group. All five of them reeked of blood, having most likely fed recently. The scent made her mouth water but she shook her head, trying to get her mind off the growing thirst. There were two other scents among the group…one of the first scents she noticed was rose-scented perfume…she sighed heavily, knowing exactly who that belonged to. There was another scent…a strange one…something like the familiar scent of death that clung to all vampires…but it was mixed with the scent of…_dog. _A werewolf's scent. And Gabrielle knew who that odor belonged to, as well.

But then, a final scent hit her and caught her off guard. It was still the tangy, metallic scent of blood, but…there was something about it, something different, and familiar. And along with that came another familiar scent…a muskier odor, one that smelled faintly of dirt, sweat…and a cologne she would know anywhere.

_Gabriel's scent… _she realized. _That smells like Gabriel…but what would he be doing here? As I recall, he was supposed to be meeting Alana in Budapest, with Alexsei and Carl. I don't smell either of them…_

It was then that the footsteps seemed to be getting closer…in fact, they were right outside her cell. Gabrielle shifted, wincing as her sore and aching body protested to movement. And then…through the iron-bar door, she saw the first of the group passing. Not to her surprise, Alana was in the front of the group, still wearing her black travelling cloak-wherever she had come from, she had just returned. A bestial hiss from the lips of the battered, incarcerated vampiress made Alana stop in her tracks. She arched an eyebrow at Gabrielle.

"Now, now, little princess…" she sneered. "Don't you remember when I told you I wouldn't tolerate any nonsense from you..?"

Nickelia suddenly wandered into Gabrielle's line of sight, stopping beside Alana. A trace of sorrow flashed through Gabrielle's stormy eyes, but it was brief and fleeting. "You have his scent on you…" she hissed. "Gabriel's scent…"

"Ah, yes…" Alana chuckled, removing a set of keys from nowhere. Your husband and I just had a very…_interesting_ encounter in Budapest…"

At that moment, Gabrielle dared to have a little hope; just a tiny, flickering flame of hope burning in her chest. Van Helsing had made Alana's five-day deadline. Perhaps there was hope for Catherine after all…

The sound of footsteps approaching her brought her back to the present situation. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to find one of the two men responsible for helping Alana take her captive standing over her, gazing down at her. After a moment, he knelt, so that his gaze met hers.

He seemed to be young no older than thirty, if he was even that-but, to Gabrielle, his appeared age meant nothing. In the case of vampires, outward appearance meant nothing, not when it came to age. He had somewhat aristocratic features, indicating at noble-or, at least, privileged-birth and upbringing. He had thick, blonde hair, which hung down to his shoulders and framed his pale countenance-on which there were two very prominent scars, one under his left eye, the other trailing down his jaw, on the right side of his face. His jade eyes stared at her with a clear interest.

"Ah…Princess Gabrielle Valerious…" he crooned, flashing the ivory fangs under his lips. "Yes, yes…my finest work yet, I'd say…"

"Who the hell are you?" she snapped.

He shook a finger at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Now, now…manners, Princess. But…I never gave you my name, did I? Well, then, shame on me! My name is Matthias Jonas. Surely you remember me? I know it's been thirteen years, but I know I remember you…"

His cold jade eyes never left her piercing stormy ones as she sifted through her memories. And after a long moment of thinking, she remember things…she could remember fangs at her throat, stealing her lifeblood…cold blood trickling down her throat, giving her a new life…and green eyes, glittering with cold amusement as she was caught in the throes of her life-altering transformation. Her eyes widened slightly now that she remembered exactly who this man was.

"You…" she hissed, jerking forward in anger. Her chains, shorter than she remembered, jerked her back. Matthias chuckled, clearly amused.

"You bastard!" she snarled, flashing her fangs dangerously. "You bloodsucking bastard!"

"Again, Princess, mind your matters…" A sadistic grin crossed Matthias's face, and he gestured towards the door. "After all…you don't want anything to happen to _him_, do you?"

Gabrielle looked in the direction he was pointing in, and her undead heart sank like a stone. Two more guards-the last of the vampire quintet-had move to stand in front of the door…and, to her dismay, they had her husband in their clutches. Van Helsing's eyes were closed, and he appeared to be unconscious. He also looked as if he had been in a fight recently, with the dirt and blood on his clothing. He also had a few visible cuts, bruises, and there was a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth…but Gabrielle had a nasty suspicion that many of those wounds were inflicted after he had passed out…

"What did you do to him?!"

Alana rolled her eyes in annoyance. "He's still alive...All that happened was that he had a bit of an encounter with Nickelia in the graveyard…"

"So would I be correct to assume that you didn't release Catherine from your wretched hold on her, nor did you reveal any information as to why you're holding Catherine as a prisoner in her own subconscious?" Venom dripped from the gypsy vampiress's every word.

Alana mockingly clapped her hands together, as if she were applauding Gabrielle. "Very good, Gabby!" she sneered. "Now, tell me…what is the letter that comes after 'A' in the alphabet? Perhaps you're smart enough to figure that out as well!"

"Go to Hell!"

"You'd best watch your tongue!" Nickelia snapped. "After all…I'm sure you'd like to keep your precious Van Helsing alive…"

As Gabrielle struggled against her chains again, clearly enraged, Alana turned to her daughter, gently brushing some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"My dear Nikki," she said, actual kindness and warmth in her voice. "Would you be so kind as to lead the guards to the cell we have prepared for Van Helsing? I wish to have a private word with his feisty little wife…"

Nickelia nodded, the ever-obedient daughter. "Yes, of course, Mother."

She left, and the guards followed, taking Van Helsing's unconscious form with them. Alana, meanwhile, let herself into the cell, her heeled boots clicking on the stones in the floor. Matthias stood up all the way, chuckling as he moved towards the side.

Alana moved to stand before Gabrielle, seemingly calm. And yet…as soon as she was in arm's reach of Gabrielle, she lashed out, dealing her a vicious blow to the face that left her mind reeling. Before she had a chance to recover from the first blow, she received another vicious blow to the other side of her face. But Alana was not finished with her savagery yet; she kicked Gabrielle in the stomach, doubling her over in pain, forcing the breath from her. Strong fingers with sharp nails dug into Gabrielle's hair and scalp, and Alana yanked her head back, so that their eyes made contact.

"Don't speak to me of Hell," she snarled, her voice dangerously soft. "For you know nothing of Hell…least of all my own personal Hell…"

Alana released her hold on Gabrielle's head, then turned to Matthias, contempt in her eyes. "Matthias…teach that little brat the true meaning of _a personal Hell_…"

He nodded, a malicious grin spreading on his face. "I'll have her begging for death by the end of the night…"

* * *

"I can't believe it," Carl moaned miserably. Together, him and Alexsei sat at the counter of a dingy tavern not too far from Vilkova Cemetery. Neither of them had anything in front of them, but, for Alexsei, that would be changing in a moment…

"Don't you worry, Carl," Alexsei murmured. "I can't believe it either. We were duped by Alana…she lured us to the graveyard just so she could get Gabriel…"

"And we're no closer to helping Catherine," Carl commented. "And we're fast running out of time…"

Alexsei's jaw clenched at Carl's words, and a glimmer of what appeared to be tears came to his eyes. "I know…" he added softly.

The barkeep meandered over to where Alexsei and Carl sat, a mug of ale in his hand. He sat it down right in front of Alexsei, who murmured his thanks but didn't touch it. He suddenly had lost any and all interest in his drink, so he shoved it over in front of Carl instead.

"Oh…" Carl said, a small undertone of delight in his voice. "Thank you _very_ much, Alexsei…"

Alexsei merely grunted, staring rather pensively at the back wall behind the bar. Inside his head, his thoughts were whirring like mad.

_We need to get back into Drakebane Manor…_he thought. _Can two people do that? No, no, what am I thinking? That's suicide, thinking that somehow, Carl and I can get past all of Alana's guards-no doubt, there are more of them after last time-and then make it down to the dungeons and rescue Gabriel. We'll be dead before we make it past the front gates! Perhaps…Gabrielle. We need Gabrielle. _He shook his head, running a hand through his thick black hair. _No…Gabriel said he didn't want her involved in this…what with Alana's vendetta against him. But…something tells me that, with Nickelia's sudden appearance in the graveyard-as an eighteen-year-old, too, how the bloody hell did Alana pull off that bloody magic trick?-that Gabriel's wish came too late. Gabrielle's involved with this…too deeply to get out, I think…_

_There's only one thing I can think to do…_he decided, combing his fingers through his hair again. A few more strands than usual of his inky hair fell into his eyes. _The only thing we can do is storm Drakebane Manor. And there's only one way to storm Drakebane Manor…with an army. I have to hunt up what's left of Sirius's old pack…that's better than nothing. I can only hope that I can track down enough pack members to take down that psychopathic vampiress before her disgusting, twisted sorcery kills…_He faltered in his thoughts. _Kills…Catherine…_

He stood up suddenly, sliding from his stool, placing a few leu on the counter for the barkeep. "Come on, Carl."

Carl glanced over at his companion in confusion, still clutching his mug, which was now three-quarters of the way empty. "Eh, what?" he asked, his words slurring into each other slightly.

"We're _leaving_, Carl," Alexsei said with a growl in his voice that was almost reminiscent of Van Helsing. Carl quickly chugged down the last of his ale and hurried out, struggling to keep up with Alexsei's long legs.

Beyond the tavern doors, it was frigid, and pitch-black to boot. For a moment, Carl couldn't find Alexsei in the darkness, but finally, he caught sight of Alexsei's form passing under a flickering gas lamp. He hurried after him, stumbling on his long robes.

"Alexsei, wait up!" he called out. "Alexsei! Oh, for the _love _of _God_…"

He quickened his pace, trying to catch up. Finally, he managed to come up behind Alexsei as he made his way down a long, narrow alley. Carl grabbed Alexsei's right arm with his non-injured arm, trying to force the hurried werewolf to turn around. Upon feeling the insistent tugging on his arm, Alexsei turned around, eyeing Carl.

"Alexsei, what are you doing?" He asked. "Where are you going?"

"I need to track down my old pack-mates," he said. "We need backup if we're to invade the Drakebane Manor. We certainly can't hope to invade it alone…"

"_Invade the manor?!_" Carl yelped. "Alexsei, you can't be serious! That's sheer insanity!"

"We have no other options, Carl!" Alexsei argued, desperation in his voice. "We have to free Gabriel! And we must-_must!_-defeat Alana to save Catherine's life! I'm not going to let that spiteful little minx kill the only woman I've ever loved!"

Alexsei closed his eyes and took a deep breath, intending to calm himself down. However, as soon as his eyes opened again, he froze. His eyes were fixed not on Carl, but on something-or _someone_-right behind Carl.

"Carl…don't move…" Alexsei cautioned softly. "There's…someone…behind you…"

* * *

_-looks around- All right, this is strange...it's the end of the chapter...but no one is here..._

Alexsei: _-emerges from nowhere and lays down on floor at authoress's feet- _Well, almost no one. Just me...

_How come you're the only one here, Alexsei? After this chapter, I would've expected to be swamped by the muses because I thought they all would've wanted to kick my ass..._

Alexsei: Well...Catherine's halfway to Death's door, Van Helsing's out cold, and Gabrielle is currently being taught the meaning of the phrase "a personal Hell". That kind of puts everyone but me out of commission...

_-swipes hand across brow- That's a relief..._

Alexsei: I didn't say they wouldn't kick your ass once you were back in commission, Aurora...

_-whines- Why do I do this to myself?_

Alana: _-appears at foot of stairs- _Because you, my dear, understand the importance of evil triumphing over good.

Alexsei: _-growls at Alana- _I'm going to kill you, you know...

Alana: _-bites thumb at Alexsei- _Kiss this, mutt.

_Oi, you two...break it up!_

Alexsei: Oh, by the way, Rora...thanks for the nice long insight into my mind...it made me feel special...

Alana: Kiss up.

_All right...I'm going to end this thing before I end up with a werewolf vs. vampire battle on my hands because the last thing I want is a battle in this house! Please read and review! Hope you enjoyed!_


	8. Hostile Territory

_**A/N: **Well, well, well, my freaky darlings, so good to see you all again! Well-I have accomplished my goal: I have a new chapter of Intrusive dusk up for your reading pleasure before I started school! And I would like to thank **SpeedDemon315, Kairi's-twin, **and **musiclover209 **for their reviews and support!_

_**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Van Helsing..._

* * *

Chapter Eight: Hostile Territory

The first thing Van Helsing was aware of was the chill in the air around him. It was pressing against his exposed skin, stealing the warmth of his body. He could feel something else, too, something as cold as the air but also hard and unforgiving, under him, pressing into his chest. He was also aware of something encircling both of his wrists, holding them not too far from each other, something cold and uncomfortably tight…

Next, smells began to come back to the hunter, assaulting his senses. The most prominent smell was the musty, almost earthy aroma that seemed to be emanating from the chilly air around him. But under that was a metallic, coppery scent…a familiar odor, given the company the hunter tended to keep nowadays…

The scent of blood.

Van Helsing opened his eyes slowly his senses flooding back to him. He could feel pain wracking his entire body, particularly in his head and back, from where he had been slammed into the tombstone. And he heard voices…low rumbling voices of men talking about him. He kept very still, hoping to fool the men into thinking he was still unconscious-after all, he was laying face-down on the floor. They would be hard-pressed to tell if he had come back around if they couldn't see his face…

"-Why exactly she wants him, I don't know. I mean, I know he's the great Gabriel Van Helsing, but he's still only human-"

"-You dolt! You simply don't get it, do you?!" Another voice scolded the first speaker. "He's the great Gabriel Van Helsing; that's _exactly_ why our Mistress wants him! He's the last hunter of the famed Van Helsing lineage. Besides…there are rumors that he's not even human, but something else, something more powerful. Certainly, that makes him a far more valuable asset than the pitiful friar or the mangy mutt he was traveling with-"

"-Besides, gentlemen," a new voice, a female voice, coolly chimed in. "With him bound and chained, and his huntress brat of a sister, Catherine, slowly but surely dying as we speak, Mother's plans for enslaving the human race and allowing the vampires to arise as the dominant species in this miserable planet can commence!"

That one word…the word "Mother". It brought something back to Van Helsing…the fight at the graveyard…the peculiar creature that was both vampire and werewolf, it seemed…Alana's sudden appearance…and Nickelia…the very same little baby girl he had held in his arms and soothed to sleep only a week ago…mystically aged to an adult…and trained to hate him…He forced his upper body off the floor-a trying task, as his wrists were shackled together-to see exactly who was outside his cell.

Not too far from where he was laying, just beyond the bars of his cell, were three people-two men and a woman. The men, Van Helsing didn't recognize…though he assumed them to be guards. The woman, however, was none other than Nickelia. And, as if she had sensed the hunter ending his feigning of unconsciousness, she turned to him, a cruel grin spreading over her lips. Both guards-the blonde, pale man, and the muscled Serbian man whom Van Helsing assumed was a werewolf-turned their heads with her, and gave dark chuckles, moving to open the doors of the cell.

"Well…Van Helsing awakens at last," Nickelia jeered, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the guards open the door to the cell. "And now…the fun can begin…"

Uncrossing her arms she quickly strode into the cell, closing the distance between herself and the hunter, with the two guards right on her tail. Bloodlust and malice sparkled in her emerald eyes; Van Helsing's hand moved towards his waist upon instinct, and, in addition to being forced to take his other hand with him, as his wrists were chained, all he found at his waist was air. The holsters in which his twin revolvers belonged in were both empty.

_Someone removed my weapons while I was unconscious…_he mused to himself. _Simply fantastic…_

"What do you mean 'the fun can begin'?" Van Helsing asked warily, his voice raspy and harsh, his throat dry from lack of water.

Nickelia's only response was a very malicious smirk as she approached the hunter. At her sides, her hands clenched into fists, and, with lightening-like speed, she drew back her fist and cold-cocked him in the jaw. Pain shot up the side of his face, and he gritted his teeth to keep from yelling his pain aloud; she chuckled, knowing he was in pain, even though he kept it hidden. And then…she took a step back.

"Gentlemen," she addressed the guards accompanying her. "Please…do not deprive yourself. He's quite fun to torture." She cast a wicked glance at Van Helsing. "Believe me, if you thought that was bad…that was merely the beginning…"

"Why are you doing this, Nickelia?" he asked, his teeth still clenched against the pain.

"It's what you deserve, you bastard!" she snarled, a crimson hue beginning to wash over her irises. "You deserve this pain, this humiliation, after the way you hurt and humiliated Mother all those years ago! You're a fiend who deserves to be put down like a rabid dog for what you did to Mother!"

"_She's not your mother, Nickelia!_" the hunter growled, his temper beginning to flare at how Nickelia truly believed she was Alana's daughter.

Nickelia folded her arms over her chest, glaring daggers at Van Helsing. "You talk far too much, and you don't seem to be able to control that tongue of yours…Matthias!" The blonde guard stepped forward; clearly, he was Matthias.

"Yes, milady?" he asked, the traces of a malicious grin lingering in the corner of his mouth.

"Teach this cur how to hold his tongue, as he seems to be incapable of performing such a feat…"

Matthias chuckled. "With pleasure…"

And, no more than a heartbeat later, his fist collided with Van Helsing's face in a vicious uppercut. Warm, wet blood trickled from his nose, and then…Matthias's foot collided with his stomach doubling him over in pain.

"Pathetic…" Matthias sneered. "You seem to break as easy as your precious Gabby did…although…" His face darkened, and he gave a wicked chuckle. "I must say…she's wonderful for a…a little _fun_, if you catch my drift…"

The guard's implication took little more than a moment to sink in…and it enraged him down to his core…he let loose with a snarl savage enough that it seemed as if the wolf that had once dwelled within him had awakened from dormancy and was ready for a fight.

"_YOU BASTARD!" _he howled, lunging for the infuriating blonde vampire. There seemed to be no chains holding him back…but suddenly, something seemed to be holding Van Helsing back, leaving him just out of reach of Matthias. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a chain around his ankle. He gave an enraged yell and attempted to yank free of the chain. Matthias gave a loud, barking laughing and clapped his hands together in delight.

"There we are!" he cheered. "That's the kind of passion, of zeal I was looking for from you, Van Helsing!"

"How does it feel, Van Helsing?!" Nickelia jeered. "To feel robbed, to feel angered and humiliated?! Now you know how Mother felt! What you did to her!"

"_DAMN IT TO HELL, NICKELIA!" _Van Helsing snarled, his temper snapping completely. "_ALANA IS NOT YOUR MOTHER! SHE'S A REVENGE-CRAZED, PSYCHOTIC, CONNIVING VAMPIRESS! GABRIELLE VALERIOUS-VAN HELSING IS YOUR MOTHER! AND I'M YOUR FATHER! YOU ARE NOT ALANA'S DAUGHTER!"_

Nickelia let out an enraged shriek at the hunter's outburst…and a moment later, she pounced on him, abnormally sharp nails tearing into his skin. An angry, frenzied bloodlust glittered in her unnatural ruby eyes.

"_HOW…DARE…YOU!" _she shrieked as she attacked him. "_I AM… NOT … YOUR … DAUGHTER! I WOULD NEVER WILLINGLY CALL YOU AND THAT GYPSY HARLOT MY MOTHER AND FATHER! I… AM… A… TREMARIE!"_

She stood to her feet, still glaring daggers at Van Helsing, who was now significantly more bruised, bloodied, and battered after her violent outburst, and turned to the door of his cell, where another guard stood.

"Your mother sent me, milady," he said to Nickelia. "She wishes to have a private word with Van Helsing…"

Nickelia turned her attention back to the hunter. "Oh…aren't you in for a treat? You thought this was bad? You've clearly forgotten what Mother is like when someone decides to incur her wrath…"

* * *

Alana sat behind her desk, bent over a small, rather battered, leather-bound volume. She clutched a black raven's feather quill in her hand, and was recording something in the book. Her expression seemed blank, although…if one were to look quite closely, they might've said she almost looked…serene.

From down the hall came footsteps, the sounds of voices-quarreling voices, it sounded like-and what sounded like someone being dragged in. Alana closed her eyes for a brief moment, shaking her head, then, she placed her quill back in the inkwell, closed the book, and stood, knowing exactly what was making the ruckus…

No less than a moment later, the door to her study opened, and Van Helsing was tossed in rather bodily. The door slammed shut, leaving the hunter and the sorceress seemingly alone, but Alana knew her guards-Matthias in particular-well. She knew they were positioned directly outside the door, ready to involve themselves, should they be called upon.

The short heels on her boots clicked on the stones as she closed the distance between herself and the hunter's bloodied, battered-but still conscious-form. As she drew closer, the hunter lifted his head, revealing a bloodied face marred by a few long scratches left by claws, and also what appeared to be the beginnings of bruises.

His beaten face contorted in anger and bitter hatred as Alana came closer. The guards-and his own daughter-may have beaten and broken his body, but his anger towards the crazed, spiteful witch who was killing his only sister, manipulating his daughter, and having her guards do unspeakable things to his wife, was unquenchable.

As he lifted his head, Alana saw a flash of something gold around his neck. Closer inspection revealed that it was Catherine's cross. A hiss escaped her lips, and a hand like a thin, pale spider shot out, wrapping around the blessed charm.

"You_ really_ think this will protect you from the big, bad demons and vampires?" she sneered bitterly. "You really think that this little token of your faith-which was no doubt given to you by your pious little brat of a sister-will help you? Then you really should open your eyes, Gabriel. Because God won't help you. He…doesn't…care…"

She gave a quick, hard yank, and the cross's chain yielded to her vampiric strength. She let the cross dangle before her face, as she were examining it, then, she tossed it over her shoulder; it landed on her desk with a resounding _thunk_.

A frustrated sigh escaped Van Helsing's lips. Apparently, like Dracula, crosses had no effect on Alana. They only seemed to annoy the hell out of her…

"You know, Gabriel…" Alana mused, pacing slowly back and forth between her desk and her prey. "All of this…this whole nasty business…it could have been avoided. But no…you had to go and bring it upon yourself…"

Van Helsing's eyes momentarily dilated at Alana's words, before his features hardened in anger. "What?!"

"You heard me, Gabriel," she spat, whirring to face him. "You've brought all of this upon yourself. Catherine's possessions…Gabrielle's imprisonment and subsequent torture…even your darling daughter's betrayal…you're the cause of it all, plain and simple…"

"How so?" he growled, fury smoldering in his eyes. "What have I done to deserve all this, your wrath? What the hell did I do to you that would make you cause me so much suffering?"

"You know damn well what you did!" she howled in outrage. "You _abandoned_ me! You let me get taken away, and you didn't come for me! You never came for me! Not even when I needed you the most…you didn't come for me then! You never came, not for my sake, not even for the sake of our daughter, Gabriel!"

Van Helsing froze, staring in confusion at Alana, caught off guard by what he had just heard. "Our…our daughter..?"

Alana glared furiously at him, as though she couldn't believe he dared to forget. "Yes…I bore your child, a little girl. But you didn't come for me at all during those hours when I struggled to birth her, and you never came for her!" She turned on her heel, giving him her back, but not before he caught a glimpse of pure, genuine sorrow on Alana's face. "My little girl…she never saw this world. She was stillborn…"

But as quickly as her sorrow had come, it was gone, and she whirred to face him again. Malice and bloodlust sparkled in her crazed chestnut eyes.

"You never came…" she snarled. "And, during my darkest hours, thoughts of you brought me no solace. My magic brought me no solace. But Lilith, my sire…she showed me something…the only thing that comforted me at all. Her magic…black magic. And through it, I realized that I could make you pay…make you suffer for abandoning me…

"And as you can see, my plans thus far have succeeded," she gloated, flashing a maddening grin at Van Helsing. "Your only sister, your beloved baby sister, is dying slowly, and suffering every minute of it…your wife is helpless, alone, and bound in chains…and Nickelia…she's _my_ little girl now…"

"Speaking…of Nickelia…" Van Helsing growled. "What the hell…have you done…to her?"

"Tsk, tsk, Gabriel…" she purred, shaking a finger at him. "That's for me to know…and you to find out, now, isn't it?"

"You're insane…" he spat. "You're a hateful….spiteful…vengeful…harlot-"

A glowing ball of pure psionic energy, a deep amethyst in color, lit up Alana's palm, and, face twisted in rage, she hurtled it at Van Helsing. Despite the fact that he was still on his knees, the iridescent orb caught him in the stomach, sending him across the room with a yell. He slammed back-first into a bookcase, sending agony through his already-sore back and his aching skull. Black stars danced before his vision, threatening to overtake him completely; he heard heels clicking furiously against the stone floor, and a hand seized his thick hair and yanked, forcing his head back so he was staring into Alana's livid face.

"You should learn to watch that tongue, Gabriel, for it may lead to your downfall one of these days," she hissed dangerously. Another energy orb flared in her palm, and she held it near his neck. Strangely enough, the orb seemed to be radiating heat, scorching his neck. "I could kill you right here, right now. But I won't…simply because I want the pleasure of seeing you suffer before you die. You'll be forced to watch as everyone you know and love suffers and dies…and then, perhaps Fate will be kind enough to allow you to reunite with them in the hereafter…"

The glowing orb faded from Alana's palm, but her hand clenched into a fist, and collided with the side of his head, setting more black stars dancing. A moment later, the door to the study opened, and Matthias, as well as the other guard from earlier came back in. Alana turned her back on Van Helsing.

"Get him out of the manor…Get him out of my sight. His very presence sickens me…"

Still dazed from the last blow to his head, Van Helsing was hardly aware of the guards seizing him and dragging him roughly towards the front doors of the manor. However, when they reached the front and threw him out the door bodily…that we was aware of, painfully so. He came down hard, feeling the pain of ribs cracking, possibly breaking; his stomach stung and burned where he had been hit by the orb of psionic energy, and he was only just clinging to consciousness…

A rustle in the nearby brush caught his attention as he waited for the blackness lingering at the edges of his mind to overtake him completely. From a cluster of bushes perhaps ten yards from him, a small wolf suddenly emerged. The wolf had fur as white and pure as fresh-fallen snow, and wintry blue eyes to match…such a wolf was uncommon in these lands, though, and that puzzled Van Helsing…

Hesitantly, the young wolf loped over to him, coming to stand before him. It slowly lowered its muzzle and gently nudged Van Helsing's shoulder, as if it were urging him to get up. His only response was to groan in pain; his head dropped weakly to the ground, consciousness beginning to slip away rapidly now.

The young wolf glanced over its shoulder; a young, feminine voice rang out: "Uncle, Uncle! Come quick! It's _Herr_ Van Helsing…he's hurt!"

Noise accompanied the plea, the voice that seemed to come from the young wolf; there was a thundering of paws on earth, and something crashed through the brush, loping full tilt towards the hunter and the wolf. Another pure-white wolf, clearly older than the first, with the look of an alpha male to him, and stormy gray eyes, not piercing blue ones.

_Eyes like…like Gabrielle…_he couldn't help but think.

"You're right…he is hurt…" a male voice grumbled rather stoically.

"Do you think he'll survive long enough for someone at the manor to help him, Uncle?" the young wolf yipped, worried.

The older wolf nodded, his face beginning to blur as the blackness took over. "We're not far…We can get him back there…"

_I must be…be dreaming…something like that…Anything…_Van Helsing thought to himself, before the darkness swallowed him completely. _Because wolves…don't talk…_

* * *

Alexsei: What's this, Rora?

_What's what, my werewolf squishie?_

Alexsei: First off...don't call me that, please. It's embarassing. And second...what's with the talking wolves?

_Huh? What talking wolves?_

Alexsei: Come on, Rora, I'm not dumb...you know what talking wolves...

_Oh, right...those talking wolves. I'm not telling you._

Alana: _-looks up from a magazine- _Will you tell me?

_No. I'm not telling either of you..._

Alexsei: Aww, come on. Why not?

_-grins devilishly- Well, Alexsei-Squishie, I have my reasons..._

Alana: Will you tell me if I asked nicely?

Alexsei: Are you even capable of doing that, or would you spontaneously combust if you asked nicely?

Alana: Watch your back, mutt. I know where you sleep at nights...

Alexsei: _-ignores Alana completely and gives puppy-dog pout- _

_That's not going to work either, Alexsei. Don't try it..._

Alana: _-conjures up a psionic energy orb- _Will you tell if I threaten you with death?!

_No...and think of it this way: You kill me, I can't continue story. You'll never find out if I'm six feet under..._

Alana: _-extinguishes psionic energy orb and grumbles curses in Romanian-_

_All I'm going to say is...they may or may not belong to me, and if they don't belong to me, then I give all credit for them to their originator...And that's all I'm going to say! Now, I must be off! Hope you enjoyed, and please review! Reviews make for a happy authoress!_

* * *


	9. An Unusual Alliance

_**A/N: **-says in thick Transylvanian accent- Good evening, my wonderful readers. Well, I finally managed to finish this chapter and get it typed up (which, between all the homework, was astonishingly hard!), and, as a sort of treat to you...it's a nice, long chapter Eight pages in Microsoft Word! _

_Anyways...I'd like to thank both **Kairi's-twin **and the ever-loyal **SpeedDemon315 **for the reviews last chapter! _

_**Disclaimer: **I, as always, don't own Van Helsing. There are also several other characters I don't own in this chapter, and I shall give their creators their due credit in their own special little section!_

* * *

**Disclaimer, Part Two: **I do not own the following characters: Kaja Dragora, Lexa Goering, Andreas Liakov, Akyralana Angelus, Egil Swenhaugen, Sigrid Swenhaugen, and Rolf Dunklestein. Kaja, Lexa, and Andreas are all copyright **The-Sapphire-Phoenix**, Akyralana Angelus is copyright **missmacavity, **and Egil, Sigrid, and Rolf are all copyright **SpeedDemon315**. I must thank you all for being so kind as to let me borrow your characters, and I hope I can live up to your standards for them!

* * *

Chapter Nine: An Unusual Alliance

"I'm rather concerned about that bite wound on his wrist…you're sure-?"

"He's clean, don't you worry. I, erm…I sampled his blood. He's clean, sir, I promise…"

"Thank God…that harpy didn't try to turn him. We'd have a huge problem on our hands if she had. Thank you again for all your help, Miss…Miss..?"

"Dragora. Kaja Dragora. And it was no trouble, sir." There came a momentary pause. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

"Don't worry…he'll live. He'll be in pain for a while, though…Alana's cronies must've tormented him mercilessly. He's taken a hell of a beating. Although…of all his injuries, I'm most curious about this burn on his stomach…"

"It looks horrible…what do you think she did to him to cause that?"

"Hard to say…it looks like a radiant heat burn-rather, a burn caused by close contact with heat. But, towards the center of the burn, it looks like more of a direct contact burn…it looks bad…"

Though in a half-conscious slumber, Van Helsing could still hear those two voices, one male and familiar, one female and unfamiliar, speaking softly, talking about him. The longer he listened, the more he seemed to come to…he could feel pain in his limbs, now…at the moment, most of it was a dull ache, but it was a steady dull ache…

Warm, rough fingers came to rest on his stomach, right about where Alana had hit him with her orb of psionic energy. At that moment, it was as if someone had pressed a white-hot poker against his stomach…the pain was sharp, severe, burning. The pain spread rapidly through his body, as if someone was simultaneously torturing him with a thousand thumbscrews; his muscles clenched against the pain, and he gritted his teeth, though it failed to stop the pained yelp that escaped his lips. His eyes opened suddenly, staring at only darkness for a moment until his eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings. The pain was still so sharp and intolerable…he wondered why it wouldn't end…

And suddenly, the fingers that had been touching the wound, stimulating the pain…they were gone, though the pain still lingered, his skin still burned. And then, the familiar male voice rang out…

"Ah…well, I'd say he's awake now…"

Van Helsing turned his head-slowly, so as not to aggravate the splitting migraine he had-towards the voices. There were two people at his bedside, watching him somewhat intensely. Alexsei, he recognized; he also figured it was Alexsei who had touched him. The other, however, he didn't recognize…

She was quite beautiful, and young, too, no older than her early twenties, if that. Thick, dark brown hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were deep and dark, but warm at the same time. Her skin was ivory and unblemished, and had that trademark pallor that marked her instantly as a vampire. Van Helsing eyed her warily; he sensed no evil from her…but he could 

sense some bitterness, some deep-seated sorrow, kept at bay by kindness and a sort of determination…

"Good to see you awake, Mr. Van Helsing," she said. "Quite a few of us were worried that you might not come back around…"

Van Helsing glanced around taking in the room he was in. It appeared to be some kind of bedroom, though it was quite sparsely furnished, containing only an armoire, two chairs (one of which was pulled to his bedside and occupied by the dark-haired vampiress), and the bed in which he lying. The room was dark, lit only by a few flickering candles, and a slight bit stuffy…but Van Helsing was actually quite fine with it. His head was pounding fiercely, and as it was, the dim lighting in the room was almost too bright.

"Where am I?" he asked slowly, struggling to sit up.

"You're safe," Alexsei assured him, grabbing his shoulder and gently forcing him back down. "But, to be more specific, you're currently residing in a room at Liakov Manor, which is right outside of Miscoara Valley."

Van Helsing gave a grunt to Alexsei, to tell him he understood, then turned his attention to the vampiress. "And what's your name?"

"Oh…I've forgotten to introduce myself," she said sounding vaguely startled. "I'm quite sorry. My name is Kaja Dragora, Mr. Van Helsing."

Van Helsing turned his attention back to Alexsei. "How do you know her..?" He couldn't help but wonder if she was a past love of his, and, if so…why was it he had called upon her? A shoulder to cry upon, perhaps, to mourn the fact that his wife was dying?

"It's not what you think…" Alexsei commented, as if he could read his brother-in-law's mind. "I only met Kaja a few days ago. Her and the others-"

"What do you mean, others?" Van Helsing cut in softly. "What did I miss while Alana had me in captivity?" He paused as another thought occurred to him. "And how did you get good so good at…you know, medical practice? I caught some of what you said while I was still unconscious…"

"Think of it this way…" Alexsei said with a bit of a smirk as he reached for what appeared to be a roll of cloth bandages on the small bedside table. "I've been alive for three and a half centuries. And I was never one for sticking with the pack…I roamed. Faced with the concept of an immortality of uselessness…that thought kind of scared me, so I decided to heed the advice of Adaliah, my sister…she always said that I'd be a wonderful doctor. So, I started the trade of medicine. By the way…London has wonderful medical schools."

"And what about these…these _others_ you mentioned?"

Alexsei paused in the midst of beginning to wrap bandages around Van Helsing's torso. "Right…well…it's hard to explain. It may just be easier to…to show you…"

* * *

Van Helsing peered warily around the vast living room of the place known as Liakov Manor. It was packed full of unfamiliar people, and…Van Helsing could sense no human aura from any of them. The longer he stood there, however, he noticed one vaguely human aura from someone in the room…but only _one_ person…

As him and Alexsei crossed the threshold into the room, the babble within gradually died down, as if someone had called for silence. All heads in the room turned towards the pair; in the crowd, Van Helsing spotted Kaja Dragora, the dark-haired girl he had met yesterday, when he had first come around. She sat on a couch, next to a woman with flaming red hair and a young man with light brown hair that was just about down to his shoulders. But other than that…the room was full of strangers, which automatically put his hunter's senses on high alert. After a moment, the babble in the room gradually picked up once again, but still, every so often, a head would flicker in his direction…

Suddenly, there came a flurry of movement, and a young woman, perhaps twenty, if that, came hurrying forward. She had long, light blonde hair that curled perfectly at the ends, and warm, sparkling brown eyes that were alight with excitement. She was dressed in a very simple, very plain dress, and moved easily, as if she was used to running in skirts. She threw her arms around Alexsei, embracing him tightly. His face lit up; he smiled for the first time since Alana had begun to possess Catherine, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead as he returned the embrace.

Van Helsing couldn't help but be a bit suspicious. Alexsei seemed to know this woman far more intimately than he knew Kaja…was it at all possible that Alexsei wasn't as true to Catherine as he had thought?

As if Alexsei could read his thoughts-again-he turned towards Van Helsing, one arm around the young blonde's shoulder. His face was still alight with a grin.

"Gabriel," he said. "May I introduce you to my niece, Alexandra Claire Dunkirk?"

A strange look passed over Alexandra's face, and she gave an involuntary shudder. "I'm sorry, Uncle Alexsei, but I'm never going to get used to that name…you know, Alexandra Dunkirk? I'm sorry, but…I _was_ Chandara de Autechane for the longest time. It's what I'm used to…"

"Either way, you're still my niece," Alexsei told her. "You look a lot like your mother, you know that...?"

She beamed, then turned to Van Helsing. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Van Helsing. Uncle Alexsei has most highly of you and of your sister…well, I suppose I should be calling her Aunt Catherine, as she is my aunt…"

Van Helsing gave a cordial nod. "Thank you, Alex-Chandara. It's a pleasure to met you as well-"

His sentence ended abruptly when a small door he had failed to notice swung open. A tall figure staggered out quite clumsily, ducking his head so as to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe. By the light of the roaring fire, Van Helsing caught a glimpse of skin that looked as if it had been sewn together by hand…and was a sickly sort of grayish-green color…

"It can't be…" Van Helsing said, half shocked, half relieved…at last, someone he knew in this cockamamie place! "Frankenstein..!"

The creature turned at the sound of his name being called, and he gave a lopsided sort of grin, flashing his three copper teeth. He changed direction and loped towards the hunter. Behind him, Carl poked his head out the door to the hidden room, spotted Van Helsing, and followed after Frankenstein, a relieved sort of grin on his face.

"My friend!" Frankenstein called as he approached the hunter. "Van Helsing! I have missed you!"

Van Helsing nodded in assent. "As have I, Frankenstein. I thought you were heading elsewhere in this world. You looked to be doing so when I watched you sailing off on the Black Sea…"

"I did intend to head elsewhere, to a place where I was not hated or feared, if there was such a place," Frankenstein responded. "But I caught wind of the plans of your Order, and it occurred to me that it was a doomed plan. I returned to Europe to find others that agreed with me. I was fortunate to come across your holy friend Carl in Budapest, while looking for you. He told me that you and him agreed that the plan was doomed to fail…and after speaking with the one you call Alexsei, I see it has come to pass that the plan has not worked out…"

Van Helsing nodded solemnly, remembering the heartbreaking agony he had seen on Catherine's face those precious few moments she had managed to escape Alana's possessions. Frankenstein placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I am sorry for what has happened to your sister," he apologized. "But my friends and I will help you defeat the evil one you call Alana."

Van Helsing looked around at everyone in the room. "So…you know everyone in the room? They're all your friends?"

"I do not know all of them personally," he replied. "Many of them are friends of friends. But I call all of them friend, for they are my allies, and therefore, my friends."

"And now, I do believe it's time for you to meet everyone else, Van Helsing," Carl piped up from behind Frankenstein.

Alexsei nodded. "I'll take him around."

He started off towards a group of people, with both Alexandra and Van Helsing following close behind. Before long, Alexsei stopped; Van Helsing saw, from over Alexsei's shoulder, that he had stopped at the couch where Kaja was talking with the red-haired woman and the brown haired man. Van Helsing stepped up next to his brother-in-law, and the entire group on the couch ceased talking, looking up at the trio.

"Gabriel…you've already met Kaja," Alexsei introduced. He gesture to the other two on the couch. "But you've not met these two…"

The ginger smiled, then extended her hand towards Van Helsing. "A pleasure to meet you, Van Helsing. My name's Lexa Goering. And no, I don't know Frankenstein personally…well, at least, I did not until I came here."

Van Helsing paused in the midst of shaking her hand, his brow furrowing in confusion. That was exactly what had been crossing his mind as he had been shaking her hand. And yet, she had answered his question, though he had not spoken it aloud… _As if she could read my mind…_

"You've pretty much hit the nail right on the head," Lexa said. "Because I _can _read minds. All Fallen Angels can read minds…"

Again, Van Helsing's brow furrowed in confusion. Never once had Catherine mentioned the ability to read minds…as far as he knew, she didn't even have that power…

"Oh, no…not the actual creature of a fallen angel," Lexa amended kindly. "The Fallen Angels were a special sect of the Order, composed completely of telepathics. I inherited the telepathic ability through my blood, just like every other Fallen Angel."

"I've never heard of the Fallen Angels…" Van Helsing admitted honestly.

Lexa nodded. "I know…they were disbanded twelve years ago, when I was a child, after many of them were massacred by an overzealous vampire lord…" She frowned and gave a sigh. "As it was, not much was written of them…almost as if they never existed…Anyways, again, I'm Lexa Goering. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Van Helsing."

The man next to her extended his hand. "And I'm her fiancée, Andreas Liakov…"

Van Helsing shook his hand, noticing he had a strong grip. There was also a bit of a devilish twinkle in his emerald eyes; that twinkle diminished slightly when his eyes met Alexsei's. Almost as if he…held some sort of grudge against him.

Alexsei fidgeted slightly. "Right…well…we've got quite a few others to meet. Come, Gabriel…"

Van Helsing nodded to Andreas and Lexa, then turned and followed Alexsei, quite curious about what had just transpired. He lightly tapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder. "Alexsei…does Andreas have some sort of grievance with you? I noticed that he seemed to be…angry with you."

"He is…only a little, though…" Alexsei said nervously. "You see…erm…well, about ten years ago now…when Andreas was a young man…he was attacked by a werewolf one night, and turned. His sire abandoned him, and never taught him control…so his transformations are still rather…_unpredictable_…"

"So he bears a grudge against all werewolves?"

"No…just me, really…" Alexsei said, a grim sort of smile on his face. "Because…_I_ was the werewolf that bit him…"

Van Helsing opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a young woman sauntered up to Alexsei. She bore a strong resemblance to Kaja, but her eyes were a vivid emerald instead of 

Kaja's dusky shade, and her lips were the color of blood. Her thick, black hair, wavy to the point it was almost curly, hung loose and free, giving her a bit of a wild appearance. As for her clothing…well, it was nowhere near as scandalous as what Dracula's dearly departed brides wore, but it was still just a bit provocative. She eyed Van Helsing briefly, then turned her attention back to Alexsei.

"Oi, Alexsei," she trilled in a thick Scottish/British mixed accent. "Not to trouble you, but what does a girl have to do to get some blood around here?"

"You're going to have to take that up with Frankenstein, Akyra…" Alexsei said, patient despite the fact that he had been interrupted. "He's technically in charge. And, by the way…this is Gabriel Van Helsing…"

Her vivid eyes flickered to the hunter again, and her hands moved to rest on her hips in a style very reminiscent of the late Anna Valerious. A cocky sort of smile curled over her lips. "Name's Akyralana Angelus, love. But you can call me Akyra, everyone else does. So good to finally meet the great Gabriel Van Helsing."

The hunter's eyebrows rose in surprise. Praise was certainly the last thing he expected from a vampire like Akyra. "What makes you say that?"

Akyra grinned, flashing her white teeth and deadly fangs. "Well, come on, Van Helsing…you're only the greatest mass murderer since…well, since myself-"

Her attention was diverted from Van Helsing when she caught sight of Frankenstein across the room. She hurried to go talk to him, leaving Van Helsing and Alexsei standing in the middle of the room, with Van Helsing more than a little confused.

"That was certainly…_intriguing_…"

"You're not a mass murderer, Gabriel, you and I both know that…" Alexsei told him. "See…Akyra is…different, to say the least…don't worry, though. She seems to like you well enough…"

Van Helsing nodded, though not entirely sure if the fact was supposed to comfort him. He was also still curious about what had transpired between Andreas and Alexsei-why Alexsei had been lead to bite Andreas-but, for now, he held his tongue. He still had others to meet…

Alexsei led him towards the wall where the hidden door was located. In the back corner, seeming somewhat isolated, sat another trio. Two men-one a very tall, very muscled blonde with long blonde hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, and the other a tall, slender, pale fellow with shoulder-length black hair and point-tipped ears emerging from under his messy locks-were sitting in chairs facing each other, looking to be quite deep in conversation. A young girl, perhaps ten or so, with white-blonde hair pulled back into a long braid, sat on the lap of the blonde man, seemingly content to listen to the two men talk. As the trio came closer, she turned her head in their direction, fixing them with her wintry blue eyes. Those eyes stirred a sense of recognition in the hunter…he remember a pair of eyes like that…eyes peering at him in concern out of the face of a snow-white wolf pup…

The young girl's face broke into a wide grin, and she tugged on the sleeve of the blonde man's shirt excitedly. "Uncle Egil! Uncle Egil!" she yelped excitedly. "Look! _Herr_ Alexsei and _Savne _Chandara are here! With _Herr_ Van Helsing! He's all right, Uncle Egil!"

The man-whose named was apparently Egil-turned his head towards Van Helsing. And again came that squirming sense of recognition…Van Helsing had seen those stormy grey eyes before…

Egil's lips curled up into a very slight, cocky grin. "Good to see you up and about, Van Helsing. You didn't appear to be in too wonderful of shape when Sigrid and I first found you…"

The hunter eyed them both suspiciously. "Wait…are you telling me that…that you and her-" He gestured to the young girl known as Sigrid. "-were…no, it couldn't be. It's impossible…"

"You mean to ask if we were those two wolves that found you, don't you, _Herr_ Van Helsing?" Sigrid asked with a little giggle.

"They were…" the black-haired man commented, crossing one leg over the other and fixing the hunter with his strangely silvery gaze. "You'd be amazed at what shape-shifters such as Egil can do, _Herr_ Van Helsing…"

Van Helsing turned his head back towards Egil, whose grin had faded, and whose lips were set in a straight line all of a sudden. "A shape-shifter?"

Sigrid nodded excitedly. "Yes! My uncle is an amazing shape-shifter…he can become anything and anyone!"

And again, a small smile came to Egil's face. "And you, my _skøyer, _are a very promising little shape-shifter as well…" He stood to his feet, his attention on the hunter. "Egil Lars Swenhaugen, Van Helsing. And this is my niece, Sigrid Mia Swenhaugen…"

He placed a rather protective hand on Sigrid, while she swept Van Helsing a polite curtsey. Meanwhile, the other man uncrossed his leg and stood to his feet in a very smooth, fluid manner.

"And I am Rolf Marcellus Dunklestein," he introduced, his piercing silvery eyes-which, Van Helsing had to admit, were quite similar to Gabrielle's, though they were lighter in color and flecked with crimson-seemingly scrutinizing the hunter.

"Pleasure to meet you Egil, Sigrid, Rolf..." Van Helsing said. "Oh...Egil, Sigrid...I suppose I owe you my thanks, for bringing me back here and not letting me die out there..."

"Think nothing of it…" Egil said flatly, shrugging. "After all, you are the great Van Helsing. It'd be a shame to have you defeated by the likes of Alana Tremarie…" His gaze wandered from Van Helsing momentarily, and a moment later, they rolled in disgust. "My, my…they certainly aren't willing to wait for some privacy, are they?"

The hunter glanced over his shoulder and found a couple he had missed, pressed against the wall and kissing passionately. The man's fingers toyed lightly with the woman's long, white hair, yanked back into a single braid, while the woman twined her fingers into the man's thick, brunette locks. A frown furrowed the hunter's forehead…they looked so familiar…too familiar…but it had to be impossible, considering Van Helsing had watched one of them perish nearly five months previously…

Alexsei saw the perturbed look on his brother-in-law's face, then shook his head lightly. "Ah, yes…Gabriel, I assume you remember Edward de Foré and Adolpha de Autechane…"

"Yes, I do…but I was under the apparently-mistaken impression that Catherine killed Adolpha back in August…"

"That's what I thought as well…" Alexsei said with a shrug. "In fact, she had no heartbeat, as far as I could tell. But…she's alive, somehow. I've asked many times exactly as to how, but she's been rather mum as to how she was believed to be dead when she was really alive…"

Van Helsing shook his head, his brow furrowing in confusion. "All right…so, I've met all these people; clearly, they're all supernaturals of some sort…and some of them obviously can even defy death, but…to what point and purpose, Alexsei?"

"Well, Gabriel…" Alexsei said. "This…this is an army. They're going to help us take down not only Alana Tremarie…but her entire coven as well…"

* * *

Alexsei: Wow, Rora, that was a very long chapter...

_Sorry, Alexsei...I had to introduce a lot of people and that took...well, eight pages on my computer..._

Van Helsing: You know, Alexsei, you still owe me an explanation about what happened with you and this Andreas Liakov...

_-perks up- Gabriel? -glomps- At last, you're back! I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show up again!_

Van Helsing: Well, I wasn't exactly in the best of shape for the last three chapters, so...I wasn't much in the mood for being one of your muses...

Alexsei: And thus...you left me with her! _-points to Alana-_

Alana: _-looks up from filing nails- _Oh, quit your bellyaching, puppy. I wasn't too thrilled about being saddled on muse-duty with you for three chapters. Be glad your authoress was here to protect you, otherwise...I may've killed you long ago.

_-shakes head- Didn't I tell you two no violence in the house? God, if I tell you two once, I tell you two a thousand times..._

Van Helsing: That bad, huh?

_Most days...-sighs-_

Van Helsing: Well...again, sorry I wasn't around much. And Alexsei...what exactly happened between you and Andreas?

Alexsei: I'll tell you later...

_Yeah...I'll work that in...anyways, thanks for reading! I know the author's notes are crappy, but...I digress. Thanks for reading, please leave reviews! Makes me very happy!_


	10. News From the Home Front

_**A/N: **All right, I know this chapter took...forever to make it's merry little way onto here, for which I apologize. I'd like to place the blame on school, as I always do._

_Anyways...real quick, before the chapter commences, I'd like to say thank you to **Kairi's-twin, musiclover209, **and the ever-loyal **SpeedDemon315 **for the wonderful reviews! Also, I'd love to give a shoutout to **Dr. Lust-**Welcome back to Fanfiction, girl!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Van Helsing. I also don't own my friends characters. I do own Catherine, Alexsei, Alexandra, Alana, Gabrielle, and Nickelia, though. Can't touch me!_

* * *

Chapter Ten: News from the Home Front

The squeaking sounds of a cell door-_her_ cell door, matter of fact-opening roused Catherine from the uneasy slumber that Alana's possessions kept her in most days. She figured it was merely one of the slayers that worked the prisons like she used to, come to bring her a meal, with that same false look of pity they all had for her, that false sympathy. She didn't want their food-despite the fact that she had regurgitated quite a few of her last meals-and she didn't want their company. All she really wanted was Alexsei, or Van Helsing and Gabrielle…She wanted to talk to them, to be with them in those precious few moments when she wasn't under Alana's control…

However, when she opened her eyes, she saw three slayers coming into her cell, towards her. She struggled to sit up, and one slayer hurried to her side, tugging on the chains binding her wings. The two other slayers hesitantly approached and began to undo the shackles holding her wrists and ankles to the floor. Catherine peered up at them in confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice rough and harsh, her throat dry, begging for water.

"Don't worry, Catherine, we know what we're doing," the slayer working to free her wings-a pretty vampiress she knew as Aria-assured her. "His Eminence sent us down here…they want us to bring you to the infirmary…"

She finished with the chains and lifted them from Catherine's wings. She sighed in relief as the heavy weight was lifted from her wings. It felt like such a huge burden had been lifted from her…

_Now, if only Alana could lift the control she has on me…_she thought to herself. _I can imagine how wonderful that would feel…_

The other two slayers finally finished unchaining her wrists and ankles from the floor, and unbound her ankles as well so she could stand and walked (though she noticed they left her wrists bound together). Slowly, Catherine tried to stand to her feet, her sore body screaming in protest as she did. Aria and the two others-Cate and Daina, Catherine knew them as-helped her up, trying not to cause her any more pain, then, Cate and Aria wrapped their hands around Catherine's upper arms, their grips gentle but firm. They held her this way as they guided her up several flights of stairs, all the way to the infirmary.

For Catherine, it was the strangest sensation, to be walking again, and not to have shackles around her ankles, or her wings. She stumbled clumsily a few times, her feet not used to moving; behind her, her wings idly stretched and occasionally flapped, glad to be free of the confining chains. The slayers held her tightly, seeming to be there to make sure she didn't fall on her face. But Catherine was no fool…she knew they were really there to make sure that, should Alana possess her again, they would be there, to subdue her, make sure she couldn't run off and attempt another massacre…

At long last, they reached the infirmary. Cate pushed the door open, while Aria guided Catherine around the rows of small, iron-framed single beds with their brilliantly white sheets. Quite a few of those beds were occupied, filled with those injured in the massacre, those who injuries required constant care. A good portion of them gave Catherine dark looks or cold sneers as she was led past them; her cheeks flushed in shame, and she dropped her head, staring at her feet to avoid making eye contact with the disgruntled slayers.

Aria noticed this and gave her a kind, sympathetic smile. "Catherine…there's no need to feel ashamed. We all understand what happened that night…we don't blame you for what happened that night…"

"Judging by some of the looks I'm receiving…I'd beg to differ," Catherine commented in a low voice, her voice sounding caught between shame and sarcasm. Aria didn't know how to respond to that, so she simply reached out and gently patted Catherine on her back. The fallen angel winced in pain as Aria's hand made contact with the sore muscles of her back.

At long last, they had arrived at what appeared to be their wanted destination: A corner of the infirmary, far from all the other patients. Small screens, not unlike the ones that ladies kept in their rooms to change clothes behind, had been erected, presumably for privacy; Aria, Daina, and Cate guided Catherine through a gap in the screens, left open for that exact purpose. Behind the curtain, a single bed stood, no different from the others…with the exception of the fact that there were rather short chains mounted to the head and footboard of the bed, clearly meant for a more…_rowdy _patients. It reminded Catherine of the beds she'd seen at some of the dreadful sanatoriums she had been to. For her, it was cruel, almost excruciating, to see those people chained hand and foot to their beds for problems far beyond their control…

_And now…I am to be chained hand and foot to a bed…_she thought to herself. _As if I were a sanatorium patient myself…_

"Wonderful…" she commented dryly as she was guided to the edge of the bed; she sat, and the nurses helped her to lie on her back. Sore muscles in her back and torso protested at the movement; she grit her teeth against the pain.

"We're terribly sorry, Catherine, truly we are…" Daina apologized as she unchained Catherine's wrists, then re-chained them to the headboard, forcing her arms to remain above her head. "But after…after last time, we cannot take any risks…"

As the three slayers finished shackling Catherine, a red-robed figure appeared through the gaps in the screen-it was none other than Cardinal Jinette, wearing his usual stoic, emotionless mask of a face. A few priests in white robes-healers-followed behind him. The last one who clambered through the gap pulled the screen closed behind him, shutting the little corner off from the rest of the ward.

"Good to see you again, Catherine," Jinette said in a voice that, if one listened close enough, they might've been able to hear the touch of concern in it. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just fine…" Catherine commented, a bite in her tone. "Never mind the fact that I'm dying slowly…of course, once my entire body stops hurting as if I've been beaten, I stop coughing blood, and the headaches, nausea, and vomiting subsides…I'll be splendid…"

If any of Catherine's ailments troubled the cardinal at all, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he merely motioned a white-robed healer forward, then gestured to Catherine. The man nodded, approached, and bent over her slightly, taking her arm gently-though, with fingers too cold and a grip too strong for him to be human. She felt his lips brushing over the crook of her elbow, right over the vein, and a split-second later, his teeth sank through her flesh, bringing blood to the surface. Catherine gave a yelp of surprise, one that quickly turned into a hoarse, hacking cough. Small droplets of dark crimson sprayed from her mouth, mostly hitting her chest and stomach. She ignored that, however, and focused on the man taking her blood, and Cardinal Jinette as well, indigence in her eyes.

"W-What's the m-meaning of t-this?!" she sputtered, attempting to free her arm from the healer. "D-Damn it t-to H-Hell, g-get off m-me!"

The vampiric healer, however, withdrew his fangs before he even had even taken a mouthful of her blood. He lifted his head, swishing the blood around in his mouth as if he were sampling fine wine, then he turned to Jinette, concern on his features. "Her blood is practically drowning in dark magic…with how susceptible fallen angels are to dark magic, I'm amazed she's even conscious, much less coherent…"

Jinette nodded. "As we suspected…can you handle her blood?"

The healer nodded. "Indeed. Dark magic has no effects on vampires, not when ingested via blood."

"W-Would you t-two stop s-speaking in c-code and t-tell me w-what you're d-doing to m-me?" Catherine asked, panting very slightly, feeling a bit lightheaded from have her blood taken.

Jinette turned his attention to Catherine, while the healer gently dabbed something that reeked strongly of alcohol on both the crook of her elbow and her neck, right over her jugular vein. "There's an overwhelming amount of residual dark magic poisoning your blood," he informed her. "You'll only last another week at most, and there is no word from your brother as to if he has killed Alana Tremarie yet. I promised him and your husband that we would do all in our power to keep you alive until Alana Tremarie was vanquished."

"What we're doing is we're replacing your blood," the healer piped up. "I take your blood-not enough to kill you, only enough to make you feel very weak-and then we replace it with pure fallen angel blood, untainted by dark magic. Hopefully, it will extend your life long enough for Van Helsing to kill this Alana Tremarie…"

Catherine's brow furrowed as she thought over what she had just been told. Then, she nodded, though the motion made her head throb even more insistently than it had been. "A-All right…I t-think I u-understand it n-now…I t-think it m-makes sense…" She wriggled her left arm weakly. "D-Do your w-worst…"

The healer nodded, then took her arm again, applying just enough pressure to make the vein more visible. He placed his lips against the skin over the vein, gently puncturing the vein once more with fangs like knives, and he started to drink once more, using more force now that he was no longer merely sampling.

Minutes ticked by slowly. At first, Catherine seemed unaffected by the loss of blood, as though she was bled on a regular basis (which wasn't entirely far from the truth-Catherine had become rather accustomed to losing and giving up blood during her job). But as the minutes ticked by, the blood loss began to take its toll on her. She whimpered in pain as small doses of vampiric venom accidently made their way into her bloodstream. Sweat beaded on her brow, and her skin became increasingly pale as blood left her body. Her breath came in short gasps that only barely made her chest rise and fall…

The healer pulled away quickly, motioning for the other healers come forward. "Hurry…get the blood into her, quick. She's fading fast."

Two healers hurried to her side, both holding physician's syringes filled with dark red fluid…fallen blood. Both healers quickly put the needles into Catherine-one in the vein at her elbow, where the blood had been taken from, and one in her jugular vein-and pressed the plungers. The dark red fluid left the syringes and flowed into her bloodstream; instantly, her breathing picked up the pace, while a touch more color returned to her pallid skin.

Another dose of blood later, more color had returned to her skin (though she still looked rather pale and sickly), while her breathing had returned to its normal rate and she was no longer sweating. However, she had passed out sometime between when her blood had been taken and when the healers had transfused it. Daina reached forth a hand, as if she was going to shake Catherine from unconsciousness, but Jinette raised a hand, stopping her.

"Let her rest," he ordered, the smallest trace of sympathy in his voice. "She's been through quite a lot recently. Let her rest…"

* * *

"Van Helsing! Van Helsing! _Van Helsing!"_

Carl's shrill yells cut through the soft babble in the vast front room, turning several heads-Van Helsing's included.

A day had passed since he had met everyone in that motley little group of supernaturals, and both Carl and Andreas (whom, Van Helsing had come to find out, owned the manor they were staying in) had gone to a nearby town, for supplies and also to cable Rome at the telegraph office. During their absence, Van Helsing had found himself in the midst of a rather interesting discussion with Rolf about the differences between crossbows wrought by humans and crossbows wrought by drows. Egil, Sigrid, and Alexsei had joined this conversation, though Sigrid sat on the hearth, absorbed in a battered, dog-eared book, and Alexsei sat, silent as the grave, his fingers constantly fiddling with the gold band on his left hand. There was no mistaking the longing, lonely look in his eyes…he was pining for Catherine.

Carl hurried over to where Van Helsing sat, occasionally tripping over the hems of his robes. Heads followed him as he hurried over to Van Helsing's side; he was panting slightly by the time he made it over. Van Helsing couldn't help but notice the familiar white paper of a telegram clutched in Carl's hand, and for a minute, his heart sank with dread. Had Catherine's condition worsened? Or worse…had she died?

"What is it, Carl?" Van Helsing asked, assaying to keep his voice calm. "Is…Is Catherine all right?"

Carl nodded, his blue eyes alive with excitement. "Yes, yes, Van Helsing…she's all right. And we have more time now!"

"More time?" Alexsei asked, turning his attention to the excited friar. "As in…more time before Catherine..?"

He trailed off, though everyone knew what was coming. Carl, however, merely nodded again. "According to His Eminence, she has more time! He said so in this cable…"

He displayed the telegram for the group to see. As he did, Alexandra strolled over, perching herself on the arm of the chair her uncle sat in. Her keen brown eyes were on Carl. "What does it say, Brother Carl? Will you read it to us…please?"

Carl's face turned inexplicably scarlet when Alexandra spoke. He nodded, as though he couldn't speak for some reason, and he fumbled with the telegram, smoothing it out so he could read it:

"_Brother Carl, stop. Please inform Van Helsing that his time restraint has been extended, stop. Catherine's blood has been transfused and replenished, stop. With the grace of our God, she may live at least two more weeks, stop. Please have Alana Tremarie dead within that time, stop. Blood transfusion may not yield desired results second time around, stop. His Eminence, Cardinal Jinette, stop."_

Alexandra smiled and hugged Alexsei. "Did you hear that, Uncle? We've more time to help Aunt Catherine!"

"Thank God," Alexsei sighed in relief. "And thank the sweet Mother Moon…"

"I can only hope that two weeks will be enough time…" Van Helsing mused. "As of yet, Alana is proving most…difficult to kill…"

"We can do it, _Herr_ Van Helsing!" Sigrid chirped, standing up, lifting her chin, and squaring her little shoulders. "We can defeat _Savne_ Alana and save your sister!"

Egil nodded at his niece's words. "She's right, Van Helsing. Now that we have more time, our chances of defeating that infuriating witch in time are much better."

Akyra sauntered over to the group, stopping and putting her hands on her hips saucily. "All I know is we best kill that bitch soon. I want her dead."

"That's funny, _Frauline_ Akyra," Rolf commented placidly. "You know…I recall you saying something about having no soul…"

"I don't…" Akyra purred. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, seeing as you have no soul, I would have pegged you as a supporter of Alana's master scheme, whatever it may be."

Akyra laughed, a strange sound that was rough and harsh, yet musical at the same time. "Oh, like hell! And do you wish to know why?"

A wry grin spread over Rolf's face. "Do tell, _Frauline_ Akyra…"

"Because," Akyra began simply. "Her _master scheme_, best as I can tell, is trying to take over the world. However…if there's any one person who's going to be taking over this world…it's _me_."

A chuckle escaped Rolf. "Well, that certainly makes sense, I do suppose. I guess I should not have judged you on the basis of you not having a soul…"

"That you'd know a lot about, eh, Rolf?" Egil bantered, a smirk on his face. Rolf scowled at him in response.

"All right…"Alexsei interrupted. "We need to figure out a way to attack Alana and her entire coven…"

"I can assure you, a full frontal attack is not the way to go," Lexa said as she stepped forward, pushing her ginger hair from her face. "Ten to one, she'll be expecting it."

Van Helsing nodded. "Attacking her on her own ground-her manor-is simply signing a death warrant right here and now. We need to attack her on a more common ground."

"A common ground, you say?" Andreas asked as he moseyed over, with what looked to be some sort of invitation clutched in his hands. "I think I know the perfect place and time for us to launch our first strike…"

* * *

Van Helsing: I'm amazed, Aurora...

_I've amazed you? _

Van Helsing: Yes, indeed, you have.

_-looks shocked- Hold on...I want to document this moment for posterity... -reaches for camera-_

Van Helsing: _-rolls eyes-_ I just wanted to say that I'm glad you finally had a chapter in which Catherine was a rather major part! I mean, that hasn't happened since, like, chapter four!

Alexsei: Although, needless to say, I'm not exactly thrilled about her condition...

Alana: Oh, would you quit your whining, you mangy mutt? She's still alive, isn't she?

Alexsei: Not for much longer, no thanks to you! Akyra's right...you are a bitch...

Alana: Why I ought to-!

_Oh, for the love of God...you two, knock it off! No fighting in the living room, Mom will kill me!_

Alexsei: _-gives Alana look that could freeze Hell-_

Alana: -_gives Alexsei a certain finger-_

Van Helsing: _-palms face- _Dear God...

_My sentiments exactly. Anyways...well, I shall end it here, and I'd like to ask for a review if you liked it! Also, this time, I leave you with a song...it's among one of my newer favorites, and it kind of makes me think of Catherine throughout this chapter. And so, with no further ado, I give to you...**"Fences" **by **Paramore!**_

I'm sitting in a room,  
Made up of only big white walls and in the hall  
There are people looking through  
The window in the door  
they know exactly what we're here for.

Don't look up  
Just let them think  
There's no place else  
You'd rather be.

You're always on display  
For everyone to watch and learn from,  
Don't you know by now,  
You can't turn back  
Because this road is all you'll ever have.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying.  
Just living proof that the camera's lying.  
And oh oh open wide, 'cause this is your night.  
So smile, 'cause you'll go out in style.  
You'll go out in style.

If you let me I could,  
I'd show you how to build your fences,  
Set restrictions, separate from the world.  
The constant battle that you hate to fight,  
Just blame the limelight.

Don't look up  
Just let them think  
There's no place else  
You'd rather be.

And now you can't turn back  
Because this road is all you'll ever have.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying.  
Just living proof that the camera's lying.  
And oh oh open wide, 'cause this is your night.  
So smile.

Yeah, yeah you're asking for it  
With every breath that you breathe in  
Just breathe it in.  
Yeah, yeah well you're just a mess  
You do all this big talking  
So now let's see you walk it.  
I said let's see you walk it.

Yeah, yeah well you're just a mess  
You do all this big talking  
So now let's see you walk it.  
I said let's see you walk it.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying.  
Just living proof that the camera's lying.  
And oh oh open wide, yeah oh oh open wide.  
Yeah, oh oh open wide,  
'Cause you'll go out in style.  
You'll go out in style.


	11. Bloodbath

_**A/N: **Okay, it took a little while, unfortunately, because my hard drive crashed, but...here it is! Chapter 11! I'd like to thank **HughJackmanFan **and **vamplady101 **for coming, reading, and reviewing, and I'd like to thank **Kairi's-twin, musiclover209, **and, of course, **SpeedDemon315 **and **Dr. Lust **for the reviews!_

_**Disclaimer: **Once again, I don't own my friend's characters, and I don't own Van Helsing or anyone else that Stephan Sommers has his little "legal claims" over._

_But I will. Mwahahahaha._

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Bloodbath

An inkwell wobbled briefly, as the tremors of a hand coming down hard on the surface rocked the desk. For a moment, it seemed that the inkwell would topple, but thankfully, it managed to stay standing.

"What do you mean 'They've more time'?" Alana growled in outrage, her teeth-and gleaming fangs-bared in a savage snarl. "You best explain yourself, Matthias, or so help me Satan..."

"I managed to steal a glance at the telegram that the monk had," Matthias said, his voice taking on a smooth, almost seductive tone, as if he thought a bit of lust might soothe his mistress's fiery temper. "And it said that, at the Vatican, they've found a way to extend the life of Catherine Van Helsing..."

"How in the seven fires of Hell did they pull that off?!" Alana stormed, lifting her hand from the desk. Small fissures spread over the surface of the desk, spiderwebbing out from where her hand had smashed into the desk's surface in anger.

"That much I didn't catch," Matthias admitted, the subtle lust in his voice faltering in the face of Alana's fury. "I can only assume that somehow, they've halted the effects of your magic, my mistress..."

"Damn it all to Hell..." Alana growled, lifting a hand to her brow, as if she had a headache. "I should have known those meddlers would have found a way to keep her alive longer..."

"She's still dying, my mistress," Matthias said. "She can't hold out much longer..."

Alana didn't respond for a moment; her hand remained at her brow, her fingers moving in small, gentle circles, as if she was trying to rid herself of a headache. And suddenly...her eyes snapped open, her irises ringed with luminous amethyst haloes. The stone on her pendant glowed the same shade.

"No, she won't..." Alana purred, moving towards her vast bookcase. "Not once I'm done with her..."

A devilish smirk came to Matthias's face. "Are you possessing her again?"

"Of course!" she called back, taking something from her bookshelf. She turned, and he saw a small glass orb sitting in her palms. Thick fog swirled within the glass, sometimes pressing against the sides and then leaving a moment later. Matthias perked an eyebrow at the crystal ball.

"Just so we can watch what unfolds," Alana said, moving towards a small table and two chairs squished into the corner. Her violet eyes sparkled in the low light. "Because it's so much more amusing that way..."

* * *

Even though the sun was rapidly fading into the western sky, the Vatican was still bustling with activity. The bell for supper rang out noisily, and the men living within the basilica-both holy men and employees of the Order-hurried towards the dining hall, eager for a meal.

Things were busy inside the infirmary as well. It was now that time that the day healers left and the night healers came to take their place. This was also the time that the night healers started their rounds, and a small group of friars brought meals for the patients, making the infirmary quite the bustling place.

A shrill scream echoed out, immediately silencing the soft babble of the infirmary. It was coming from behind the small, screened-off corner of the ward...where Catherine was. Several healers-including the one who had drained the tainted blood from Catherine-sprinted over to the corner, yanking open a gap in the screens and hurrying in.

On her bed, Catherine was thrashing and writhing in agony, yanking desperately at the chains binding her to the bed. Her sapphire eyes were wide in utter panic and pain, while sweat beaded on her brow. Underneath of her, her wings flapped, dislodging the occasional feather.

"Miss Catherine, whatever's the matter?" a healer asked in concern, shouting just to be heard over her screams.

_"GET HER OUT OF MY HEAD! MAKE IT STOP!" _Catherine pleaded, yanking even more furiously at the chains binding her wrists. Blood started to drip from her nose; small droplets were spattered everywhere as she thrashed her head to and fro in agony. "_PLEASE! DEAR GOD, MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE! I CAN'T LET HER WIN! NOOOO!"_

"What's wrong with her? Is she delusional?" a concerned healer asked, looking as if he was ready to run at any moment.

"She's possessed by the Devil!" another healer cried out.

"No, not the Devil-the Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania!" the healer who had assisted in her transfusion corrected. He turned to another healer. "Go get me another syringe with two doses of sodium pentothal…she'll burn too quickly through one dose-"

He was cut off by another shriek from the distraught Catherine, though this one seemed to be a bit fainter than the last one. "_NO! PLEASE…" _she paused, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. "_M-MAKE IT…M-MAKE IT S-STOP…"_

Her eyelids flickered lightly before closing; her thrashing stopped, her entire form going limp. The healers cautiously stepped forward, some of them trembling visibly.

"I-Is she d-dead?" one healer questioned.

Another shook his head. "No, no…she's still alive. Merely unconscious…"

"Or so you think…" another voice chimed in, a female voice using a coy, throaty tone. The color drained from the faces of all the healers; as they watched, Catherine's eyes opened, glowing purple…Alana had taken her over once again. "I, however…beg to differ…"

She eyed the chains binding her coolly. "Chained her up, did we? My, my…what's the matter? _Afraid_ of her? You clearly don't know Catherine…she wouldn't _dare_ to hurt any of you, her _allies_…though, if she wished to cause you harm, you'd have no way of stopping her, seeing as she could snap those chains without even breaking a sweat…"

As if to prove a point, she curled Catherine's hands into tight fists, straining the muscles in her slender arms. She gave a quick, forceful yank, and the chains around Catherine's wrists snapped easily, snapping loudly. Another quick tug later, and the chains around her ankles were broken as well. The healers all backed away in fear as she sat up, a demonic grin on her face.

"I told you that you would have no way of stopping her," Alana purred coldly, ripping the twisted, bent shackles from Catherine's wrists and casting them aside. "Perhaps…you should have…thought that through…a little more…"

* * *

The sounds of cutlery gently clinking against plates mixed with the soft babble of the dining hall as everyone in the Vatican dined. It was a normal, peaceful evening, as always…

A series of chilling screams brought the gentle noise in the hall to a dead silence. Mixed with the screams were prayers for mercy, prayers for salvation…prayers that ended mid-word with a strangled sort of gasp. Those in the hall exchanged terrified glances with their neighbors, their faces draining of blood in their fear.

Suddenly, fists began to pound furiously on the vast double doors, as those outside demanded to be let inside. This only lasted for a moment, and then, the doors burst open as a majority of both patients and healers from the infirmary stormed inside, shouting in fear. Beyond the doors, everyone could hear the sounds of a woman laughing coldly and cruelly, and those horrible shrieks and prayers that always ended so abruptly.

"_CLOSE THE DOORS!_" one of the frightened, panicking men screamed out. "_DON'T LET HER COME IN HERE!"_

Cardinal Jinette made his way down from the head table, his brow furrowed in confusion at all the hysterics. "What is going on? I demand to know at once."

"I-It's C-Catherine V-Van H-Helsing…" one of the healers stuttered nervously. "S-She's…s-she's under p-possession a-again…and h-has b-broken f-free of h-her-"

He was cut off by a loud pounding at the door, though not a frantic pounding, like that of those running from Catherine/Alana. It was slow, steady…and ominous, to say the least. The pounding only lasted a minute, though, then, it stopped. Everyone in the hall exchanged nervous glances, fearing this was not over yet…

The doors burst open unexpectedly, and a large blur, grey, black, and crimson in color, came soaring in. Whatever it was, it lapped once around the dining hall, cackling wickedly, before coming to a graceful landing on the head table.

Catherine's skin and clothes were heavily stained with blood, and more blood had dyed her strands of her burnet locks a vivid garnet color. A wicked smile curled on her lips, and her eyes glowed that chilling shade of purple as she took in all the terrified faces before her.

"My, my…you all must be terrified," she purred. "Don't think I can't taste your fear…I can. And I must say, I rather like the taste of it…"

Jinette stepped forward, putting on a fearless façade, even though he knew he was facing down a remorseless murderer possessing the body of a creature, a woman, with the potential to be lethal. A cold, cruel laugh escaped Catherine's lips.

"Cardinal Jinette? Really? Are you the only one with the gumption to face me?" Her eyes roamed the halls, instantly picking out the slayers. Quite a few of them recoiled under her gaze, but many others, when meeting her gaze, squared their shoulders and moved towards Jinette, drawing weapons and moving in front of him, intent on protecting their superior. This only widened the wicked grin that Alana had forced onto Catherine's face.

"Now _that's_ more like it!" She hopped down from the head table, perching like a gargoyle upon the edge of the dais that the head table was located on. "I always do enjoy a challenge!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "That…and I do believe it was you snot-nosed little band of do-gooders who infiltrated my manor and forcefully escorted me out. You owe me a…_penance_."

With no warning, she launched herself at the group of slayers, not even stopping when she collided with the small mass of people. She took a slayer down to the ground, then stood, lifting him by his collar, and flung him, with as much ease as a child tossing aside a toy. He slid down a table top on his back, pushing anything and everything in his path aside. He came to a stop mere feet from the edge of the table, stunned from being thrown down such a length.

Two more slayers lunged at her, intending to take her down, subdue her, and allow Catherine a chance to take control of her body once more. She merely grinned, then, with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head, took out one of the slayers charging towards her. The other slayer seized her from behind, one arm around her waist, the other around her neck. A jab to the stomach, as well as a carefully-placed foot to the slayer's groin quickly left him doubled over on the floor and less than eager to try fighting her again.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disdain. "How utterly disappointing. I honestly expected you slayers to give me more of a fight! I'm beginning to think I'm simply wasting my time-!"

A loud report rang out as a gun was fired. A bullet grazed Catherine's arm; blood spurted from the wound, dark crimson droplets spattering whatever or whoever was near. Alana forced Catherine's fingers to the wound, skimming over it as if it didn't hurt (though, technically, it really didn't-because this was not her body, Alana could not feel any pain). Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the blood.

"Very well, then…" she purred darkly. "Very well…"

Before anyone had time to process her cryptic statement, she had forced herself through a small cluster of slayers and caught Jinette from behind. One arm went around his neck, pressing heavily against his windpipe; she quickly unsheathed a small but lethal dagger that had been strapped to Catherine's corset and placed the tip to the cardinal's chest…right over his heart.

"One more shot and I'm afraid _His Eminence_ shall be forced to depart your company…_eternally_," she snarled.

Many of the slayers exchanged glances, but none dared to advance. They all knew the risk-one wrong move could lead to the death of an innocent man-unpopular, this was true, but innocent.

Jinette's face began to take on a reddish tinge that perfectly matched his robes as the restricted air flow began to take a toll on him. The wicked leer on Catherine's face only grew, and she pressed even harder against his throat…

And suddenly, she froze.

The strangest feeling had overcome her-not Alana, but Catherine (who could feel it, despite the fact that Alana still had her trapped within her in own subconscious). It was an unsettled, almost sick feeling in her stomach, one that made her focus less on being trapped by Alana's dark magic…

With no warning, Alana suddenly released her control on Catherine. A new feeling came to her, one akin to being pulled back to the surface after being trapped underwater. And with that feeling…all her senses came rushing back to her, as did all her pain, her suffering. She could feel how her head was pounding; her legs trembled, as if they could no longer support the weight of her frail, sickly body.

The sick, unsettled feeling in her stomach escalated to full-fledged pain, as though she had taken a blow to the stomach. The dagger slipped from her fingers, clattering on the floors as it bounced off the stones; she sunk to her knees, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, her small form trembling like mad. The room started to spin around her; she pressed her hands against her stomach, tears stinging in her eyes.

_Please, God…please, make it stop…this can't be happening…_

A moan of agony escaped her lips as the tears spilled onto her cheeks. The entire hall looked on, curious and fearful, not sure if Alana was still in control, of if Catherine had fought her off and taken control once more…

Blood sprayed the ancient tiles of the hall as Catherine retched. Many squeamish monks and friars looked away from the gruesome, unsettling sight, while Catherine's fellow slayers looked on in worry. They had no idea what was wrong with her, why she was vomiting blood…nor could they help her.

After what seemed like an eternity, but may have only been a few minutes, Catherine was left doubled over on the floor, sweat trickling down her face, mingling with the tears, her breath coming in short gasps. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, as if she was still in agony, and blood dripped from her lips. She looked up, seeing the cluster of slayers, and the cardinal as well, all watching her with concern and morbid curiosity…and then, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she slumped to one side, as she slipped into the promises of sweet oblivion.

Silence reigned in the hallway for a moment, and then, one friar in corner, pale as death and visibly trembling from head to foot, spoke up. "Is…is s-she dead?"

Jinette shook his head, gently massaging his abused throat. "I do not think so…"

Nervously, Aria stepped towards Catherine, skirting the regurgitated blood, kneeling at Catherine's side and gently pushing her onto her back. Her chest very gently rose and fell, almost looking as if it wasn't moving; Aria placed her to Catherine's chest, hearing her heart still beating in her chest. It wasn't a strong, healthy beat, but…it was a heartbeat, none the less.

"Her heart's still beating…" Aria reported.

And then…it was so gentle, so soft, that she almost missed it completely…but her vampiric hearing just barely caught it. A gentle, steady sort of beating…like that of another heart. Aria gasped audibly, lifting her head from Catherine's chest, complete and utter shock written on her face.

"I'll be damned…again…" she announced aloud.

* * *

Alexsei: _-rests head on my shoulder and gives me entreating, puppy-dog look-_

_Forget it, Alexsei...I'm not telling you._

Alexsei: _-whining- _But Roraaaaaaaaaaaa...she's my wifeeeeee...I deserve to knowwwwwwww...

Van Helsing: He's right, you know...he deserves to know, and so do I. She's my sister, after all, and my baby sister at that.

_-gives evil little grin- I'll never telllllllll..._

Van Helsing: Damn it, Aurora! Tell us!

_Never! -gets up on chair and points to ceiling- Vive la resistance!_

Alana: _-looks up from magazine and rolls eyes- _That settles it...your mother either dropped you on your head as a child, or she stood too close to that food-heating contraption that you call a microwave when she was pregnant with you.

_-climbs down from chair and shoots Alana evil glare- Shut up, Alana. There's nothing wrong with me, I can assure you. -reaches for a Wendy's cup and takes a sip-_

Alexsei: _-picks up cup and eyes it suspiciously- _Sure about that?

_Yes, I'm sure...what's that supposed to mean?_

Van Helsing: _-opens the cup and looks inside- _You're drinking blood...with ice in it...

Alana: _-perks up instantly- _Where'd you get that from? I want some...seeing as you won't let me go out and feed around here...

_You bunch of sickos...this is fruit punch. Not blood. Fruit punch..._

Van Helsing/Alexsei: Ohhhhhhhhhh...

Alana: I knew that.

_-shakes head- The people I live with...anyways, I hope that you liked it! Review, please, because reviews make for a very happy Rora! _


	12. Her Azure Eyes, Rife With Pain

_**A/N: **Well, would you look at that? It's a bloody miracle! I have finished a chapter of Intrusive Dusk in four days! Well...let's just say that I've found a fair amount of down time at school, and have taken advantage of that downtime most splendidly..._

_Anyways...I would like to say thank you so much to **Kairi's-twin, SpeedDemon315, **and **Dr. Lust**-I swear, you three are my three best reviewers, and without you guys, I probably would've given this up. I'd also like to say thank you to **LunarLycan87**-thank you for the review and welcome to the insanity!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own my friends characters, I don't own Stephan Sommers's characters -sighs-I don't own crap in this story, somedays..._

* * *

Chapter Twelve: "Her Azure Eyes, Rife With Pain"

"A masque?" Carl asked, taking the invitation from Andreas's hand to read it over.

Andreas nodded. "The New Year's Masque…It's been going on in Miscoara Valley for as long as anyone can remember…and the masque's benefactor is-"

"-The Drakebane Coven," Kaja chimed in. "This is, essentially, Alana's masque."

"Where is it held?" Van Helsing questioned, taking the invitation from Carl.

"In town, at the magistrate's manor," Andreas supplied. "Because Alana and her coven know that the villagers won't dare tread in the woods. Therefore…they had to hold it on common ground…"

"Do you think it's a good place for a first strike?" Alexsei asked curiously, peering over Van Helsing's shoulder the parchment.

"Seems as good a place and time as any," the hunter responded. "We just need a strategy…"

"So we can't simply walk in, plant a stake into her heart, and walk out?" Akyra asked, sounding quite bored (and also looking quite disgusted, for she had the misfortune of standing next to Edward and Adolpha, whose lips-and tongues-were once more locked in a fierce, epic battle). "Personally, I rather like that plan. Simple, easy to remember."

"Sadly, things are not that simple, _Frauline_ Akyra," Rolf mused, almost bitterly, as he stepped forward in his smooth, fluid manner. "However…Van Helsing, my comrade Egil and I might just have a plan."

He gestured to Egil as he spoke; the Norwegian mercenary gave a curt nod, as though he knew of the plan, but wasn't necessarily thrilled to be a part of it.

"You see, _Herr_ Van Helsing …as imperative as it is to kill Alana if we wish to spare your sister and save your wife and child, now is simply not the best time to kill her. In a word, we can't count on a plan that will kill her," Rolf stated smoothly. "Mostly, the reason we can't kill her now is because we know so little about her, even after Sigrid, our resident bookworm-" He gestured to the grinning little tow-headed shapeshifter. "-combed through the archives. However…we believe that there may be plenty of books pertaining to Alana Tremarie at her estate…including, perhaps, a diary of sorts belonging to her."

"So…what exactly is this plan of yours?" Van Helsing asked, curious as to what the dark-haired drow was getting at.

"Well…" said drow drawled. "I think this is one plan better _shown_ that _told_…Egil, if you will?"

"You owe me for this, Rolf…" Egil said in a snarl under his breath as he stepped forward. Silence fell, and everyone gathered, anxiously waiting to see what he would do. A moment ticked by silently…

The first change was quite subtle-his skin paled to a smooth, unblemished, snow-white shade, one that made his tawny hair and stormy eyes even more prominent. Those stormy eyes darkened, becoming a smooth, chocolate-brown color, one that held a cold, cruel sort of power; the tawny hair began to change shades, growing black at the roots and then spreading, until all of his long hair was black as pitch. At the same, his hair uncoiled from the ponytail he kept it in, flowing down past his shoulder blades and to the midsection of his back in messy, thick waves. Muscles and bones shifted, and Egil lost both height and muscle mass as his body shifted genders, from a well-muscled man to a slim yet curvaceous woman. Even his clothing stretched and reformed itself, his sweater, breeches, trench coat, and boots becoming an ankle-length purple dress with black trim, high-heeled black boots, and an ankle-length black cloak.

When it was all said and done, Van Helsing found himself facing a doppelganger of Alana where the sullen Norwegian shapeshifter had stood. He blinked in surprise.

"Sweet Mother Moon…" Alexsei muttered under his breath.

"And _this_, Van Helsing, is Rolf's brilliant idea," Egil huffed, in a voice indistinguishable from Alana's. "I'm to shapeshift into Alana, then return to the manor as her, under the pretense of needing something. Once inside, I'm to gather information, steal a few useful books…and free any prisoners, if I can."

With Egil's words, Van Helsing dared to have a bit of hope-there was a possibility that Gabrielle could be freed from the hell she was trapped in. "It's a brilliant plan…we should go through with it."

"Glad that's settled," Egil groused, folding his arms across his feminine bosom. "Now, if you don't mind…" His scowl remained, even after he had taken his usual, masculine form once more.

"The masque is three days hence," Alexandra said, gently tugging the invitation from Van Helsing's grip. "Hopefully, that will be enough time for all of us to find costumes for the ball."

Alexsei nodded. "It should be…so, consider this our first strike against the Drakebane Coven."

* * *

The air was cool and crisp as Van Helsing stepped out onto the back balcony of Liakov Manor. The stars twinkled brightly overhead, perfectly visible because Liakov Manor was miles from any large city, where the gas lamps could've blocked out those diamonds twinkling across the black velvet sky…

"The best view really is out the back, isn't it?"

Caught off-guard, Van Helsing quickly turned, his hand automatically going to his waist, to the revolver holstered there, even though he was sure that whoever had joined him meant him no harm. It was merely a force of habit.

Egil stood near the back door; his earlier scowl was gone, faded back to the same stoic, deadpanned expression he always wore. A tumbler was clutched in his right hand, and, for the first time since Van Helsing had met him…his niece was not at his side.

"Where's Sigrid?" he asked curiously.

"Sleeping," Egil responded, strolling over to the railing that encircled the back balcony. He leaned against it, looking out at the surrounding woods. "It's rather late, so I put her to bed."

The hunter nodded, then turned back around, looking out at the scenery around them. A deep-and rather awkward-silence descended over the two men, broken only by the sounds of Egil taking a gulp of whatever was in the tumbler he held.

"Mmm," Egil commented, in what sounded to be halfway between a grunt and a contented sigh. "I must compliment the Russians…if nothing else, they know how to make splendid vodka."

Van Helsing nodded again, giving a grunt, and the silence descended upon them once more. If the mercenary were thinking anything, the hunter didn't have the slightest clue as to what, for his face was an unreadable mask as he sipped his vodka. The hunter sighed, before turning his attention to their surroundings once more…

"I know what you're going through."

He turned his head slightly, to see Egil better, when he heard that phrase. Egil's expression had not changed one bit, and, if the hunter had not known any better, he would have thought a rock had spoken. "Pardon?"

"I know what you're going through, Van Helsing," Egil said. "While you were still being held captive by _Savne_ Alana, Alexsei-at Rolf's insistence-filled him and I in on every gory detail."

"Really, now?"

The shapeshifter nodded. "Yes, and believe me when I say he spared no details." He gave a sigh. "More to the point, however…I know what it's like to see your only sister, your closest friend, in unbearable agony, and not be able to do a damned thing about it."

For the third time, silence came upon the two. Van Helsing believed that Egil was on the verge of revealing something quite personal…but, for now, the man seemed content to sip at his vodka and gaze upon the stars…

"Ragna," he stated, catching the hunter's attention once more. "She was two years my junior, and perhaps the most wonderful sister a man could ask for. She was the only one who supported my desire to become a monster hunter and mercenary from the beginning…" A small smile came to his face. "Even before my mother did, although, I can hardly blame my mother. After all…what mother isn't a little frightened by the prospect of her son becoming a mercenary?

"I digress, however…it was about ten years ago, when I was a young man, out on my own and not having any desire to return home. I received a letter from Ragna…a letter in which I could practically taste the anguish in her soul. She told me that her husband had been slain by a group of warlocks as he fought against them. She also told me that…that she was with child, and she begged me to come home, to see my soon-to-be niece or nephew. Ragna…I could never say no to her. She was three months pregnant when I returned home; I agreed to stay for the duration of her pregnancy, which was about another five months at that point."

He sighed, rather remorsefully. "We should have known-_I_ should have known-that things were in trouble from the start. She was constantly sick, constantly tired…and she seemed to get increasingly violent as the months wore on. But…as we were to find out, the worst was yet to come…"

"What exactly happened to your sister, Egil?" Van Helsing asked, even though he had a sinking feeling that he knew what Egil's sister's fate was…

"She…she died," he said, his gaze dropping from the stars to his hands, which appeared to be trembling very, very subtly. "Strong as her spirit was, her body simply wasn't strong enough to survive giving birth to Sigrid. With her last breaths, she named her daughter…and then entrusted me as her guardian.

"I was merely twenty-one when that happened. Ten years have passed…and yet, I have not forgotten that night, nor will I ever. To this day, I can still hear her screams of utter torment as she struggled through that long, painful, bloody night. I still remember her sweet, young face, caked with sweat and streaked with her tears." He paused for a moment, his lips pressed together in an attempt to swallow back his feelings. "And her beautiful azure eyes, rife with pain…"

_Her azure eyes, rife with pain…_

Van Helsing thought back, to the last time he had seen Catherine, when she had been locked away in that dreadful cell. He remembered all the agony that had clouded her sapphire eyes…the agony that had made him feel as though his heart would break…

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Egil's voice. "I knew that there was no way to save Ragna, none at all. She died from what's considered to be a perfectly natural cause amongst women. Your sister, _Savne _Catherine, however…her, we can help. We can save her by defeating Alana, and so we shall. Because-and you best listen to me as I say this, for I speak from personal experience-there is nothing worse than having to watch them seal your only sister away in a casket as you hold her newborn daughter in your arms. There's nothing worse than having to listen to your parents deliver a eulogy for their only daughter…the daughter who had such a long, full life ahead of her."

Van Helsing nodded solemnly, pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw as he tried to blot out the horrible mental images a pale, motionless Catherine being locked away in a casket. "I wouldn't wish such a fate upon anyone."

"Thus, I'm helping you, Sigrid and I both," the Norwegian mercenary concluded. "I should hate to think of a narrow-minded, insane witch such as Alana depriving the world of a Van Helsing. Your family has been known to send exceptional slayers out into the world."

A small smirk came to the hunter's face. "So…you're willing to help me, even if helping me involves shapeshifting into a woman?"

A scowl came to Egil's face once more. "Yes. Even if I have to shapeshift into a woman. Never speak of that again."

He raised the tumbler to his lips, draining the liquor inside, before straightening up. "It's been wonderful conversing with you, Van Helsing. And now…I'm taking my leave. Good evening to you."

His boots clomped lightly against the stones of the balcony as he returned inside, leaving the hunter alone once more. Van Helsing sighed, watching his breath as it clouded before the end of his nose. His eyes closed, and his head bowed in a silent prayer; alone, outside in the cold evening, he prayed that Catherine would have the strength to hold on for a few more weeks…and he prayed that, somewhere up in Heaven, Ragna Swenhaugen was at peace.

* * *

Van Helsing: Wow, Rora...I had no idea Egil was so deep...

_He is...I've seen him open up. He may look to be a tough nut to crack on the outside, but...he's a big softie, I tell you._

Alexsei: I wouldn't let him catch you saying that about him...

_Alexsei, the worst he can do is deny it. He can't kill me..._

Alana: Would that be because you instilled the fear of that God of yours in him.

_Naw, not so much that as I know how to get under his skin...-grins wickedly-_

Van Helsing: You've a devious little mind, Aurora...

Alexsei: I concur.

_Oh, come on, guys...you know I wouldn't be the same if I didn't. If I didn't have my devious little mind, you guys wouldn't exist._

Van Helsing: I would.

_Yes, but not a lot of the others would. That includes you and Alana, Alexsei._

Alexsei: _-looks a bit nervous- _In that case, I'm quite glad you've a devious mind!

Alana: Hey, I never complained about you having a devious mind. Matter of fact, it makes me quite pleased...ever considered perhaps being a protegee in witchcraft? I'm looking for a protegee...

_I'll pass, Alana._

Alana: _-turns attention back to nails- _Suit yourself...

_All right...well, I'll end things here, and I'll say that I hope you enjoyed reading, and please, do feel free to leave me a review!_


	13. Devil's Dance Floor

_**A/N: **Ladies and gentlemen, it...is...official. With this chapter, I have broken a new length record! TEN PAGES, BETCHEZ! -does an amazing dance of happiness-_

_So...yeah, this is unlucky number 13! And, yes, for those of you who may know this random bit of obscurity, I did name my chapter after a song by Flogging Molly. What can I say? Devil's Dance Floor is a kickbutt song, and, for a chapter like this...it is very much so appropriate._

_Now, I'd like to give thanks to **musiclover209, Kairi's-twin, **and, of course, **SpeedDemon315** for reviews! Hope you love this extra-long chapter!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Van Helsing. Still. Garrrrrrrrr...._

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Devil's Dance Floor

A light rain was beginning to fall as Van Helsing, along with Alexsei, Carl, Alexandra, Lexa, Andreas, Kaja, Egil, Rolf, Akyra, Edward, and Adolpha all arrived at the manor of the magistrate of Miscoara Valley, one Konstantin Batori. Despite the fact that all of them had walked to the Batori Manor from Liakov Manor, they weren't even the least out of breath, nor were their costumes really any worse for wear.

A few servants-masked, though not costumed-hurried forward, offering to take their capes. Van Helsing, Alexsei, and Carl (who had the misfortune of being stuck in another jester costume) politely refused to part with their capes; Rolf, Edward, and Andreas parted with their capes, while Egil merely gave a very disgruntled, very stony glare that nearly sent the servant running in terror.

The masked servants turned to the women after gathering the capes of the men. Adolpha quickly handed hers off; no more than a heartbeat later, Edward took her arm, and they half-glided, half-darted into the ballroom. Lexa passed off her cape, and Andreas offered his arm, which she accepted with no hesitation; within a moment, they were gone, too. Akyra unlaced her cape-which had covered her entire dress-and let it slide from her shoulders, revealing a beautiful black dress (with no sleeves or straps, despite the cold air) that, coupled with her dark hair, made her look like a dark goddess. The servant who had moved to take Akyra's cloak dropped it, distracted by her undeniably fetching (though vaguely sinister) looks. A small smirk came to Rolf's face, and he glided smoothly to her side, offering his arm.

"Might I have the honor of escorting you in?" he asked.

Akyra returned his devilish smirk, sliding her arm through his. "I don't see why the bloody hell not."

At the same time that Rolf and Akyra's little exchange took place, Kaja shyly approached Alexsei, the faintest hint of a blush on her pale cheeks as she tapped Alexsei on the shoulders, catching his attention.

"Erm…if I'm not being too forward, might I ask you to escort me in?" she asked, nervously fiddling with the ties to her cloak (which she'd politely refused to part with).

Alexsei nodded. "I can do that…hang on a moment."

He turned his attention back to his niece, whom all of a sudden seemed to be overcome by shyness, and was refusing to remove her cloak. Alexsei spoke kindly and gently to her, as if he were accustomed to soothing her fears, and, with a little coaxing, she finally started to reluctantly shed her cloak; she was draped in a beautiful, rose-colored dress, with a pair of gauzy wings fixed to her back, turning her into a perfect representation of a faerie from a children's book. Alexsei politely turned his attention; Carl stepped nervously towards Alexandra.

"Y-You, e-erm…you w-wouldn't b-be too e-embarrassed t-to a-allow the j-jester to e-escort you in…w-would you, C-Chandara?" he stammered, tripping over his words…but, at the very least, remembering her preferred name. She gave a warm smile, and the areas of Carl's face not covered by his mask turned brilliant scarlet.

"I think I'd be honored to have the jester escort me in. Might the jester mind sparing a dance for the faerie?"

Carl shook his head. "N-Not at a-all…"

The two of them departed into the ballroom, along with Alexsei and Kaja, leaving, as fate would have it, Van Helsing alone with a very disgruntled Egil. The shapeshifting mercenary and the hunter exchanged looks.

"Forgive me if I do not escort you in, Van Helsing," Egil said, his tone somewhere between joking and incredibly miffed.

"I don't think I'd be too offended, Egil," Van Helsing bantered back, his face quite serious. Without another word, he stepped forward, through the double doors…and into the grand ballroom of Batori Manor.

The masque appeared to be everything he expected, and no different from the masque in Budapest he attended a little over a year ago. Or, at least…it seemed to be that way at first. But the hunter's keen perception picked up something: There seemed to be some form of anxious tension radiating from roughly half the guests in the ballroom. Half the guests-even those who were admittedly less than sober-radiated auras of anxious tension. The other half, however…no, they were perfectly at ease as they danced, drank, and even flirted shamelessly.

"And thus, what separates the humans from the vampires…" Egil murmured, just loud enough for Van Helsing to hear him. "The difference in a devil-may-care aura and one of palpable-and very potent-terror…"

"So I'm not the only one who picked up on that…" Van Helsing commented in an undertone.

Egil gave a small, derisive snort. "One would have to be blind not to notice…"

The waltz being played by the orchestra came to an end, evoking a smattering of polite applause from the audience; at the same time, a woman wove her way through the crowds, over to where the hunter stood. Heads turned as she passed, for she was truly a sight to behold. Her long, raven hair was tucked away in a style akin to a bun, albeit a very messy one; a small tiara, embellished with rubies red as blood rested atop her head. A duel-colored dress, with a velvety crimson bodice and a silky sable skirt, fashionably drop-waisted and lacking sleeves or straps, clothed her slender, pale frame; a black mask, adorned with scarlet gems, hid part of her face…and yet, her necklace was astonishingly plain: a purple stone with small bands of what appeared to be metal holding it to a black cord.

He didn't know if she had been trying to conceal her identity at all, but, if she was, it wasn't working.

He knew for a fact he was facing none other than Alana, for the first time since that encounter in her study.

"Gabriel…" she purred, extending her ungloved hand to him. "Good to see you could make it. Come, dance with me…for…" She paused, her eyes glittering with evil intention. "For _old time's sake_, if you will…"

His face a stoic mask, Van Helsing took Alana's icy hand, allowing himself to be led onto the ballroom floor by this wicked sorceress. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black-haired woman in exquisite dress leaving the ballroom, looking as if "she" had been standing where the Norwegian shapeshifter had been moments ago.

_Good to know he remembered the plan…_

As the dancers took their positions, ready to begin a new dance, a swarthy-skinned man, looking to be of Gypsy or Middle-Eastern origin, came to the stage. He tucked a violin under his sable-bearded chin; his high brow furrowed and smoothed continuously as he began to play, filling the ballroom with a slow, rich tone. The dancers began to step slowly to the music; Van Helsing cautiously placed his hand at Alana's waist, taking her free hand. She smirked, boldly placing her hand on his shoulder, the chilly temperature of her fingers penetrating the hunter's costume, seeping through his skin…Onstage, the foreign minstrel began to sing:

_When the Devil is too busy  
__And Death's a bit too much  
__They call on me, by name you see  
__For my special touch_

"Glad to see you still dance well, even after over two and a half centuries," Alana purred, contempt for the hunter laced in her voice.

"You speak as though you knew me very well, once," Van Helsing replied. "In fact…more than that, you speak as though we were once…_lovers_…"

_To the gentlemen, I'm Miss Fortune  
__To the ladies, I'm Sir Prize  
__But call me by any name  
__Anyway, it's all the same_

Her eyes rolled. "But my God, you've gotten dumb! Do you not remember that little conversation we had in my study a few days ago?"

"I'm sorry, that was a conversation?" he asked, sarcasm in his voice. "Forgive me, I thought you were trying to kill me!"

_I'm the fly in your soup  
__I'm the pebble in your shoe  
__I'm the pea beneath your bed  
__I'm the bump on every head_

"You really haven't changed, Gabriel," Alana commented, shaking her head. "Same superb dancing skills…same witty cynicism…" She eyed him up and down. "Same devastatingly good looks, as well…"

Van Helsing's brow furrowed. "And yet, I was under the impression you hated me…"

_I'm the peel on which you slip  
__I'm a pin in every hip  
__I'm the thorn in your side  
__Makes you wriggle and writhe_

"I do," she said, a scowl crossing her features. "Despite how much I used to love you, and how much I wanted you and I to be together, to be one…your mere presence sickens me now, disgusts me to my core."

"So why do you keep pointing out that I haven't changed?" Van Helsing questioned logically. "And even go as far as to-dare I say-_compliment_ me?"

Alana laughed loudly, a cold, cruel sound that echoed out rather loudly. And yet, not one head turned in her direction. "You thought I was complimenting you? Oh, now that's rich! No, my dear, sadly conceited Gabriel…I was merely stating facts."

_And it's so easy when you're evil  
__This is the life, you see  
__The Devil tips his hat to me  
__I do it all because I'm evil  
__And I do it all for free  
__Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need_

The minstrel lapsed into another violin solo; all the dancers in the room spun, sending the skirts of the ladies swishing. Van Helsing and Alana passed another couple, and, before Van Helsing even knew what was happening, Alana was in the arms of the masked blonde man they had passed, while the hunter had the man's female partner. She turned her bloodshot, weary, piercingly-gray gaze on him, and a look of astonishment came over his face.

"Gabrielle?!"

_While there's children to make sad  
__While there's candy to be had  
__While there's pockets left to pick  
__While there's grannies left to trip down the stairs_

This was hardly the Gabrielle that he knew. Her thick black hair, which looked at those someone had lovingly brushed it, braided it, and wound it into a bun, lacked its usual glossy luster. Her skin held a pallor considered incredibly unhealthy, even for a vampire, and her already-slender frame was now emaciated to the point where many of her bones jutted out unpleasantly, turning her into a skeleton barely clothed in flesh. Several half-healed bite marks marred her exposed neck, shoulders, and collarbones, but God only knew where else they were. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, as if she cried often; the look in them was distant, and it seemed as if her fighting spirit had deserted her when she needed it most.

_I'll be there  
__I'll be waiting around the corner  
__It's a game, I'm glad I'm in it  
__Because there's one born every minute_

A bit of light came to her weary eyes. "G-Gabriel?"

He pulled her against him, holding her in a close embrace. "Oh, my God, Gabrielle…what has he done to you?"

"I'm her prisoner…" Gabrielle murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor as a few bloody tears began to shimmer in her eyes. "Her bait…Gabriel, don't you realize what she's doing? Nickelia…Catherine…me…she's using us to get to you…"

_And it's so easy when you're evil  
__This is the life, you see  
__The Devil tips his hat to me  
__I do it all because I'm evil  
__And I do it all for free  
__Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need_

"I figured as much…" Van Helsing growled in anger. "And I know what she's done to Catherine…and what she's had done to you. She'll pay with her life, I promise…Gabrielle, I won't fail you…"

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, she found herself harshly whisked from her husband's arms, pulled back into the embrace of the ever-sadistic Matthias.

"Miss me?" he whispered huskily in her ear.

"A-As I-I'd miss…t-the p-plague…" she retorted wearily.

_I pledge my allegiance  
__To all things dark, and  
__I promise on my damned soul  
__To do as I am told_

Alana took Gabrielle's place in the hunter's arms, giving him a wicked leer. "So terribly sorry to have disturbed your time with your precious little damned bride…but I simply cannot deny Matthias his little…_plaything_…"

"I won't let you get away with this, Alana," he snarled at her. "I'll find a way to undo all you've done wrong. I'll save Catherine…I'll free Gabrielle…and I'll even break the hold you have over Nickelia…"

_Lord Beelzebub has never seen  
__A soldier quite like me  
__Not only does his job  
__But does it happily_

Again came Alana's cold, cruel laugh. "Give up, Gabriel. You're not going to win-not even with that ragtag little band you've allied yourself with. You're facing not only me, but an entire coven of vampires…many of whom have some degree of magical prowess. You'll never win."

"I _will_. I'm not going to let you kill my only sister. I'm not going to let you manipulate my daughter. And I will _not_-" His grip on Alana's hand tightened dangerously. "-Going to let that lecherous bastard you call a guard violate my wife!"

_I'm the fear that keeps you awake  
__I'm the shadows on the wall  
__I'm the monsters they become  
__I'm the nightmare in your skull_

Not a heartbeat had passed before Van Helsing found the cold steel of a dagger pressing uncomfortably against his Adam's apple, threatening to slit his throat if he dared to do so much as swallow. Alana's cold, dusky eyes had faded to wintry blue, stating that she was at the end of her rope…and she meant business.

"Unless you either die or surrender to me…" she hissed dangerously. "I'll do with your sister as I please…and Matthias will do with your precious Gabrielle as he pleases. As for Nickelia…I told you once, I'll tell you again…she belongs to me. To replace my daughter…the daughter I bore for you, even though you forgot me and left me to rot in that den of wolves!"

_I'm a dagger in your back  
__An extra turn upon the rack  
__I'm the quivering of your heart  
__A stabbing pain, a sudden start_

Now, things we starting to become more clear to Van Helsing. Obviously, it was something that he had done in his past that made Alana despise him so…she kept saying that they had been lovers…she had been expecting a child…he had…left her? No, never came for her was the term she had used. But what had happened in between that time, Van Helsing could not definitely say.

However, there were more pressing matters at hand presently…such as the dagger at his throat.

"I'll never surrender…not to you…"

_And it's so easy when you're evil_

_This is the life, you see  
__The Devil tips his hat to me  
__I do it all because I'm evil  
__And I do it all for free  
__Your tears are all the pay I'll even need_

_And I do it all for free  
__Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need_

The blade pressed harder against his throat, practically poised to break skin and spill his blood. Alana gave him a menacing leer.

"Now, now, you may want to think your decision over," she cautioned him, toying with him. "After all…you know that if you continue to press your luck, and you continue to try my patience…I'll simply keep pushing Catherine, possessing her until she either dies from all the residual magic in her veins, or she becomes such a threat that your precious Order is forced to execute her because she's such a danger, such a menace…"

_It gets so lonely being evil  
__What I'd do to see a smile  
__Even for a little while  
__And no one loves you when you're evil_

"They wouldn't dare to do that," Van Helsing argued. "Jinette may be harsh, but he's no sadist, unlike those _you_ keep in your employment…"

"But that doesn't mean _I_ can't kill her…" Alana purred malevolently. "And believe me, Gabriel…with what's happening to her, right now…you won't want her to die…"

Van Helsing's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean 'what's happening to her'?"

_I'm lying through my teeth!  
__Your tears are all the company I need!_

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" she hissed at him. "But I'm not going to tell you…you'll find out in time...granted, it may be too late by the time you find out…but none the less, you'll find out…"

The song came to an end, and Alana pulled out of the hunter's grasp, sweeping him a curtsey as he rubbed his abused throat and scowled. "Thank you for the dance, Gabriel. It was most…_entertaining_."

And with that, she vanished into the mass of people in the ballroom. Matthias and Gabrielle, whom had been dancing nearby, also vanished without a trace, leaving the hunter alone in the middle of the ballroom with his very confused thoughts.

* * *

The light drizzle that had started as the group reached Batori Manor had picked up during the ball, becoming a full-fledged tempest by the time the group trudged back to Liakov Manor hours later. Soaking, shivering, and grumbling, the weary party trudged back into the vast front hall, welcoming the warmth and shelter of the manor.

"Hate to say it, Andreas, but I don't think your idea worked as well as we all had hoped…" Alexsei commented sadly, shaking his head and spraying half the group with the water that soaked his thick, black hair.

Andreas gave a scowl, as if disgruntled by the fact that it was Alexsei pointing out the success-or rather, lack thereof-of his plan, and he, too, shook his head, spraying the other half of the group with chilly rainwater. "I _know_, I _know_…"

"It was a good plan, Andreas…" Lexa said, pushing her soggy ginger locks from her eyes and laying a hand on Andreas's shoulder. "We just…didn't get the desired results is all…"

Akyra cleared her throat, as if she had a comment to make, as she tugged off her soaked cloak. Much to everyone's surprise, Rolf took it in a very gentlemanly sort of way, something they had not come to expect from the rake of a drow. The Scots-British vampire gave him a charming smile, then turned her attention back to the group.

"Eh…I'll say we didn't get the desired results! I didn't see that bloody witch the entire time we-" She stopped in mid-sentence and sniffed the air, then pinched her nose in distaste, giving a disgusted gasp. "Oh my God! What is that god-awful stench?! It smells like wet dog!"

"Sorry!" Alexsei and Andreas called simultaneously. Akyra simply shook her head in disgust.

"I saw her," Van Helsing stated simply, once all the commotion had died down. "Moreover…I danced with her as well."

"Did she tell you anything?" Alexandra asked, curious and a little anxious.

"Did she try to strike up a bargain?" Rolf quipped.

"Does she know about us?" Edward called from the back, where he and Alana had been talking quietly.

"No to the second," Van Helsing answered. "Yes to the third, though I'm not sure how."

"What about the first question?" Kaja called out.

"She didn't give away any plans," he said. "The most she told me was…was that something was happening to Catherine…and whatever's happening to her, I won't want her to die…"

A troubled look came over Alexsei's face, and he ran a hand through his hair (though, really, since it was so wet, all he was doing was slicking it back again and again), as though he were pondering over what other fate could possibly be befalling his wife. Alexandra and Kaja nodded in response to his questions. As the group fell silent, a pair of soft footsteps announced that little Sigrid had joined the ragged company; a pair of clumsier, louder footsteps announced that Frankenstein, her guardian for the night, had followed after her. She slinked to Van Helsing's side, tugging on the sleeve of his costume and entreating him with her large, wintry eyes-so much like Alana's were, but devoid of any malice, containing only her youthful innocence.

"_Herr_ Van Helsing?" she asked quietly. "Did my uncle come back with you?"

"He parted with the group while we were still at the ball," he said to the young shapeshifter. "He went to Drakebane Manor…I'm sure he'll be back soon-"

The doors to Liakov Manor swung open just then, admitting a very soaked young woman clutching a large black bundle in her arms. Her high-heeled boots clacked on the slick tile floor, and her soaked skirt dripped water and muck as she walked. She pushed sopping wet tendrils of raven-colored hair out of her face; gooseflesh broke out on the skin of her arms, neck, and shoulders, left exposed by her two-colored dress.

"You know…for possibly one of the greatest vampiric criminal masterminds since Count Dracula himself, you'd think she'd have better security," "Alana" groused, shaking her head to free some of the strands of hair plastered to her face and neck by rain. "Those _tullings _just let me walk right in, didn't even bother to check and make sure I wasn't some random shapeshifter in disguise, trying to fool them." She stopped, teetering slightly on her feet and sucking in air through her teeth in pain. "Christ, how does she stand walking around in these boots all the time?"

Sigrid's face brightened, and she scurried towards "Alana", whose midnight hair was getting lighter and lighter with each passing second, and whose physique was now decidedly more masculine than it had been. The young girl embraced the half-transformed shapeshifter warmly. "Uncle Egil!"

"Hello there, Sigrid," Egil said, now fully untransformed once more, thought still drenched. "Did you have a nice evening?"

She nodded, her platinum braid dancing. "Yes, I did! _Herr_ Frankenstein and I stayed in the library the entire time! We found a lot of good books!"

"I trust you behaved yourself…"

"_Yes_, Uncle Egil."

Van Helsing stepped towards the shapeshifter. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing to the bundle in Egil's arms. "Are those..?"

He nodded. "I scanned though the Drakebane Manor's main library…pickings seemed slim. Alana's private collection, however…it seemed to be the most useful to our cause." He gently unwrapped the cloak, revealing what looked to be a veritable treasure trove of ornate, leather-bound volumes. One in particular stood out…a small black book with an intricate, almost Wiccan design embossed on the front. Van Helsing had seen it before…it was on Alana's desk when he had been thrown into her office. A diary of sorts, perhaps?

"Well, enough dawdling," Egil said in a business-like tone. "Let's have a look at these books, shall we?"

* * *

Alexsei: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, AURORA!

_Alexsei, no shouting in the house-you know the walls are thin. What are you screaming about this time?_

Alexsei: TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH CATHERINE!

_You already know what's wrong with her-she's being possessed by Alana._

Van Helsing: _-palms face- _He means the other thing, Rora. There's something else wrong with her. Alana said so herself...

_You're a doctor, Alexsei...put it all together and look at it rationally._

Alexsei: _-thinks for a moment- _Nope, I'm drawing a blank.

_-palms face- I love you, Alexsei, but sometimes..._

Van Helsing: All right...on to other topics...I recognize that song, Aurora. Can I tell them, or...are you planning on making it a contest?

_No, no, you can tell them. It's pretty obvious anyways..._

Van Helsing: Right..."When You're Evil" by Voltaire.

_Very good. Now...I don't think I have anything else to say, so...I'll leave you guys here! Read and review! Thanks a lot!_


	14. Don't Fear the Reaper

_**A/N: **Hello, hello on this wet and dreary Sunday (at least, where I live it is) to all of you, my lovelies! Well...I finally managed to get another chapter done! And yes, I named it after a Blue Oyster Cult song. Shut up._

_Anways, I'd like to thank **Kairi's-twin, LunarLycan87, **and, of course, **SpeedDemon315 **for their wonderful reviews!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Van Helsing. As always. Because Stephen Sommers is greedy._

_**Disclaimer II: **(Yes, this is the name of a Seether album. Again, shut up) I don't own the wonderful Thanatos Itzal Wakahisa. He belongs to **SpeedDemon315 **and is on loan..._

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Don't Fear the Reaper

Alana reclined in the wingback chair behind her desk, crossing one leg over the other and slouching slightly, quite bored. Her crystal ball sat on her desk, the dense white fog within dancing idly around a vision of a pale, sickly Catherine, sleeping like the dead in the Vatican infirmary.

There came a knock on the thick, oaken door to her office. When Alana didn't chase the visitor away, the doors creaked open, and Nickelia strode in, crossing the room to Alana and stopping before the desk. Alana gave a genuinely kind smile.

"What is it, my dear daughter?" she asked, sitting up, propping her elbows on the desk and weaving her fingers together.

"I simply wanted to see how things were," Nickelia said, smiling at the vampiress. "I grow weary of being down in the dungeons, with only Matthias and his little bed-warmer as company. And I don't wish to witness any foreplay of his, not today."

Alana rolled her eyes. "I may have to have a word with him about that…"

"So, how are things, Mother?"

"Quite dull and lifeless, most unfortunately," Alana sighed. She gestured to the crystal ball sitting upon her desk. "Catherine's of no use to me, not in her present state. She spends half her days unconscious or asleep, and when she's awake, she's either hacking up blood, vomiting, or having an epileptic fit. Her system's starting to shut down from all the residual dark magic in her system. She's got…perhaps two weeks left."

"So I guess this means no more massacres at the Vatican?" Nickelia asked, her face falling in disappointment.

Alana shook her head. "For now, that's what it means. I'm sorry, my dear Nikki."

"So…what do we do? How do we defeat that wretch, Van Helsing? He's out there somewhere, lying in wait…no doubt he and the rest of his ragtag little troupe are plotting our downfall as we speak…"

"We defeat them by any and all means necessary," Alana said, her hands tensing in anger. "And as soon as possible…" She gestured to her bookshelf, which now looked as though it was significantly less packed than usual. "They sent someone from their ragtag little band to come in here and raid my personal library!"

Nickelia gasped, and just as she was about to respond, a knock came to the door. Without even waiting for a response, the door swung open as Matthias strode in. His shirt was conspicuously absent, and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth, leaving no guess as to what he had been in the middle of.

"My Lady Alana," he said, striding towards her desk. "There's a man at the door and he wishes to see you…"

"A man, you say?" Alana asked, one brow lifting in curiosity. "Tell me…do you recognize him as any of those among Van Helsing's allies?"

Matthias shook his head. "No…he looks a little like the mutt, Alexsei…but it's not him."

"Very well," Alana said, standing to her feet. "Did you invite this gentleman in, Matthias?"

The guard blinked in mild surprise. "Well…no…I didn't let him in because I didn't trust him…"

Alana rolled her eyes before leaving her office, moving towards the front door, closely flanked by Nickelia and Matthias. As she moved down the front staircase, she caught a scent…not of one person, but of seven…six of whom were dead…but alive at the same time, and not vampires. Her curiosity piqued, Alana crossed the hall, opening the front door of Drakebane Manor.

A small crowd of people stood on the front stoop, with a man who looked close to Alana's age at the front of the little group. His attention was directed elsewhere at the moment, but as soon as she opened the door, his attention shifted to her.

She was, admittedly, a bit taken by surprise with the man's looks. His raven hair, thick and wavy as Alana's own, fell to his shoulders, framing a handsome, strong-jawed face with a trimmed, well-kept black moustache and goatee. A scar on his left cheekbone marred his otherwise pale, handsome face, though it added a rough, devilish sort of charm to him. A long ebony robe that appeared more like a trench coat hung down almost to his ankles, but had been left open in the front. A close fitting, dark-grey shirt showed off his muscular, athletic torso, while sable leather pants clung to his muscular legs. The entire dark ensemble was completed with a pair of ebony boots; Alana spied the hilt of a saber under his robes, just barely hidden by the fabric.

_My, my…nice and easy on the eyes, aren't we? _She thought to herself, opening the door a bit wider to allow the man and his companions inside.

"Terribly sorry about making you wait," she purred as the man stepped inside, flanked by his companions. "But now, I welcome you graciously into my home…"

"I take it you're the Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania?" he asked in a soft sort of voice with an implacable accent. "I've heard your name circling rather profusely amongst the rabble down in the local hamlet…"

A wicked grin curled Alana's rosy lips. "I would be her, yes. Alana Isabelle Tremarie, at you service. Might I inquire as to your name, sir?"

"I've been called the Reaper of All Souls," he said, his smoky emerald eyes glinting darkly at the sound of his title. "But, Lady Alana, you and your compatriots may call me Thanatos. Thanatos Itzal Wakahisa."

Alana nodded. "Well, then, Thanatos…it's a pleasure to meet you. May I inquire as to the identities of your companions?"

"Ah, you mean my loyal servants. Certainly. This is Jacob… Edward… Clarissa… Ukon… Magna…and Blanca."

He gestured to each of them in turn as he spoke. Jacob was a man who looked to be in his later years, with strands of silver shot through his inky hair and a demonic glint in his dark eyes. Edward was younger, lingering towards the back of the group, running a hand through his spiky, dark hair, his dark eyes devoid of any emotion. Blanca, a young woman with creamy mocha skin and curly dark hair hung close to Jacob, occasionally reaching out to let her hand run down his arm affectionately, as if they were perhaps more than companions. Like Edward, Magna, an older, weathered woman with silvery hair, lingered towards the back, her eyes fixed on those whom Thanatos was speaking to. Ukon, a slight Oriental man with twin katanas strapped to his back, stayed at Thanatos's side, as if he was the dark-haired man's personal bodyguard. Clarissa, a stunning young woman with thick, burnet tresses and shimmering topaz eyes, kept casting seducing glances at Matthias, who was staring openly at her curvaceous frame.

"Now, may I inquire as to your two companions, Lady Alana?" Thanatos asked.

"There's no need to stand on ceremony and address me as such; I will respond to Alana," she said to him, a bit of a purr in her voice. "This is my daughter, Nickelia Tremarie, and my chief guard, Matthias Jonas."

Thanatos gave a brief nod. "A pleasure. And now…down to business. Alana…if I may speak to you in private?"

Alana nodded. "Of course." She then turned to Nickelia and Matthias. "Nikki, my dear, would you and Matthias be so kind as to find rooms for Thanatos and his accomplices?" She leaned close, so her words were audible to Nickelia only. "Watch him like a hawk, my darling daughter, especially around the one called Clarissa. You know I don't trust him around gorgeous women…"

The young hybrid nodded. "I shall, Mother."

Alana smiled, then turned towards the staircase, beckoning for Thanatos to follow her. "Come now, Thanatos…I believe we'll be most open to negotiation in my study. My daughter and my guard shall find suitable quarters for you and your accomplices."

He nodded, ascending the stairs behind her and, once in her office, taking a seat before her desk. She moved to sit behind her desk, eyeing his seated form when she sat. For a moment, silence ruled the room. And then…

"There's something unnatural about your followers, Thanatos," she said, leaning forward. "They all have the scent of the undead about them…and yet, none of them are vampires. How is this so?"

"I'd like to amend your statement, Alana," he responded calmly, almost politely, in fact. "Edward is a vampire, or rather, part vampire. A demon-vampire hybrid, though with a dominant vampiric side. But other than that-"

"-None of them are vampires," she restated. "Care to share?"

"It's quite simple, actually," he stated, smoothly crossing one leg over the other, the leather of his pants glistening in the candlelight of her office. "They all had their separate lives, to begin with. They all died, or were killed." A devilish little smirk crossed his face, and he produced a blackened rosary from a pocket of his robe, dangling it so Alana could see it. "_I_ brought them back to life."

The same devilish smile crept over Alana's face. "You're a necromancer…"

He nodded. "Indeed, I am. How else do you think I earned a title such as The Reaper of All Souls?"

"True, true," Alana conceded, nodding. She knit her fingers together, her cold chestnut eyes never leaving his shrewd viridian ones. "Now, tell me…what is it you hope to gain from an alliance with me? Are you seeking Van Helsing's death as well?"

"A bit, I suppose, as he is a meddlesome fool," Thanatos responded, knitting his pale, slender fingers together as Alana had. "But, at the same time…I suppose one could say I have a desire to sever ties with many events of my past."

Alana quirked an eyebrow. "And you believe I can help you with this?"

"I have no doubt you'll give me something to do, which will serve to keep me distracted, then, my mind shall not dwell on the past."

Alana nodded, seeing the logic in his statement. "I see…so, you wish to form an alliance with me?"

"Do you wish to form an alliance at all?" Thanatos asked. "After all, you'll hardly benefit from an unwilling union of powers."

Alana's eyes flashed angrily. "For two and a half centuries, Gabriel Van Helsing, and his brat of a sister as well, has been the bane of my existence…his mere presence in this world is a constant thorn in my side that I am unable to remove. But now…you have come along, offering to help me rid myself of this obnoxious thorn…I would be a fool not to accept your offer."

A smirk crossed the necromancer's lips. "Then yes, I shall form an alliance with you, Alana."

"Excellent…" she chuckled. "Now…just to make things official…this needs documentation."

Her slender, pale fingers opened a drawer on her right, deftly removing several furled scrolls and placing them on her desk. Thanatos watched in detached observation…though his curiosity was piqued by a moldering, yellowed scroll that Alana placed with the utmost care on her desk. He reached out and tapped it, surprised when the aged scroll didn't crumble at his touch.

"Some of these appear to be quite old," he commented, seemingly indifferent, but there was an underlying note of curiosity in his voice. "This one in particularly. Why bother keeping them?"

Alana's dusky eyes flickered upwards, to see which scroll Thanatos was referring to. A knowing sort of look crossed her face. "Ah…see, those scrolls contain documentation of some of the most important events of the Drakebane Coven. That happens to be the creed of the coven, laid down by Lamia Arcanhae-the founder of this coven-in 1375…before you ask, yes, there were vampires before Dracula. Those vampires were mostly the same as modern vampires, though some-like Lamia-were born of a union between a demon and a human."

"Interesting," the self-proclaimed reaper commented. His fingers moved from the aging, yellowed creed to another furled scroll. "And this one?"

"It's a…a treaty, shall we say?" she explained, producing a blank roll of parchment. Her fingers reached for her raven feather quill. "Signed on November 22nd, 1495, between Lamia Arcanhae and a young, down-on-her-luck, nearly suicidal French white witch known as Lilith Freniere. With this, Lilith bound herself to the coven as Lamia's protégé…and the second leader, after Lamia's unexpected demise less than a year later."

The scritch-scratching of her quill filled the room. The dark-haired necromancer let his fingers move to another scroll, this one bound by a frayed burgundy ribbon. "And this one..?"

The noise of Alana's quill stopped instantly as she looked up at the scroll. "Ah, that one, yes, that one. That's one of particular importance, at least…it is to me. That's the treaty I signed with Lilith, thus binding myself to this coven as Lilith's apprentice…and, when she was ruthlessly slain by none other than Catherine Van Helsing in 1697…I took her place, fulfilling my contract." She reached out and fondly stroked the ribbon. "In addition to binding this contract with my name and my blood…I bound the scroll with the ribbon from my hair. Ironic, no?"

"Rather," Thanatos said, dry humor in his voice. "Now, will I need to bind my alliance pledge with my blood?"

"Only a drop," she reassured him, dipping her quill into the inkwell and signing her name at the bottom of the scroll. She then lifted the quill, placing the sharp tip against her finger. A second later, a drop of black blood, almost indistinguishable from the ink the contract was written in, welled on the fleshy pad of her slender finger. She pressed her finger to the parchment, next to her name, leaving a bloody imprint of her fingerprint upon the document. Satisfied with her work, she pushed the parchment to Thanatos.

"Simple as that. You name, a drop of blood, and we'll be partners in this campaign of mine to snuff out Van Helsing and his ragtag little cohorts." She sucked lightly on her finger to clean off the blood, holding out the quill to him. "Sign away, dear Thanatos."

The necromancer quirked a brow at Alana's words-no one had used the word "dear" when addressing him for as long as he could remember-but he took the quill and signed his name. Then, repeating Alana's actions, he pricked his finger with the point of the quill and contributed his own bloody fingerprint-crimson, in stark contrast to the vampiress's onyx blood-to the document.

"Signed and bound," he stated placidly, gently pushing the scroll back in Alana's direction. As he did, she reached to take it…and both their hands met, fingers brushing against each other in a manner most unexpected.

But perhaps what was even more unexpected-and surprising-was the reaction that came from that simple accident. A pleasant shiver shot down Alana's spine, causing her back to arch suddenly, her shoulders stiffening in surprise. Meanwhile, a bit of a strange sensation came to Thanatos's stomach, a feeling that had lain dormant within him for a long time…

"Apologies," he muttered, almost brusquely, trying to take his mind off the feeling squirming in his gut.

"The fault is my own," Alana insisted quickly, sounding a bit flustered. "Should look where I put my hands…"

She trailed off, muttering something under her breath, at the same time, waving a hand over the parchment, quickly drying the ink with a spell. She bound the scroll with a length of black ribbon, then placed it in her desk, replacing the other scrolls as well. Once her desk was cleared, she glanced back up at Thanatos, a bit of consternation in her dusky eyes.

"Well, now that we've got that settled…best go check up on Nickelia and Matthias," she said, quickly reverting to her cool demeanor (though it seemed more forced than natural). "See if they've found fitting quarters for you and your servants…and I must make sure that, despite the presence of your one girl Clarissa, Matthias has managed to keep his pants on…"

* * *

_-muttering under breath-Someone's got a cruuuuuuuuuuuuush..._

Alana: Shut up, you silly girl! I do not have a crush on him!

_What? How the Hell did you hear me?_

Alana: _-rolls eyes-_ Vampire, remember? Hearing like a vampire?

_Oh, yeah...wait, are you the only one here today?_

Alana: None of your other precious muses were in this chapter. So yes, you're stuck with me, Aurora. Suck it up.

_-muttering under breath- Bitch..._

Alana: Excuse me?

_Nothing! Anyways...you liking your new business partner, shall we say..._

Alana: Well...he certainly is easy on the eyes...

_Damn straight he is! Especially in leather pants..._

Alana: Oh, God, you're turning into a drooling fangirl...

_Oh, I am not!_

Alana: Denial is the first stage of acceptance, Aurora.

_Oh, bite me, Alana...-eyes go wide- Not literally!_

Alana: _-rolls eyes and resumes reading magazine-_

_Anyways...so, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and I will try to give you another chapter soon, provided the holiday season doesn't get to busy! Thanks for reading!_


	15. Dirty Little Secrets

_**A/N: **Well, it's good to see you all again! Hello! ^^ Here we are, another chapter of the story! I'd like to thank **Kairi's-twin, GuenVanHelsing, **and, of course, **SpeedDemon315 **for their reviews!_

_**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Van Helsing._

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Dirty Little Secrets

With several loud thuds, Rolf, Egil, Van Helsing, and Alexsei set the books pilfered from Alana's personal library on one of the long tables in the library of Liakov Manor. Alexsei rubbed his wrists after setting the stacks down.

"Sweet Mother Moon, those are heavy," he commented.

"Think that's bad?" Egil asked gruffly. "Imagine carrying those-_all_ of those-from there to here. In the rain."

"In a dress and heels," Rolf snickered.

"Shut up, Rolf."

"Well, these books won't read themselves…" Carl said, cutting in and removing a book from the pile before Rolf. "We best start reading if we want to make any sort of headway…"

"Good idea," Van Helsing said, picking up the top book of his stack. The others quickly picked up the rest of the books, sitting on both the table and the floor, pouring through the books.

"I got the diary of some woman named Lilith," Rolf commented. "Sure this will be helpful?"

"More than likely…" came Adolpha's response. "I have the diary of someone named Lamia…it dates back really far…"

"Check out all of them. God only knows how far back we could find a reference of her," Van Helsing ordered, opening the book he held. The page he looked down on was covered in fancy, well-written script, and marked with a fairly recent date at the top-March 15, 1889.

_Too far back…_he thought to himself, flipping through the pages, looking for something closer to Christmas, when Gabriella and Nickelia were kidnapped…

"Mr. Van Helsing!" Alexandra blurted out. "You're mentioned in here!"

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," he commented lightly.

"No, no, you don't understand-the dates in this journal are all the way back in 1646 and 1647! And this is still Alana Tremarie's journal!"

"1646?" Rolf called as everyone began moving closer to Alexandra, so she could read the entry aloud. "Exactly how old is this old bat, anyways?"

"What's her age to you?" Akyra asked, perching on the empty stretch of table next to Rolf.

"Nothing, really…just curious if the old bat is older than me." His lips curled into a smirk. "If she's not…well, then, she'll have to learn to respect her elders, now won't she..?"

Akyra chuckled, but she was shushed quickly as Alexsei's niece cleared her throat and read an entry from Alana's diary.

***

_The candle's flame flickered as Alana rushed past it to tidy a corner of the front room. Her cheeks were ruddy with excitement, and her messy raven hair was even more flyaway in her excited haste._

Oh, Gabriel's going to be thrilled!_ She thought to herself as she scooped a handful of wilting wildflowers from a vase and replaced them with fresh ones._

_A loud, resounding knock came to the door, and Alana gave an excited gasp, straightening up and brushing dust off her dress. Lifting her skirts so she could move better, she hurried to the door and flung it open._

_There he was, silhouetted against the fast-fading sun, a figure of pure male perfection in her eyes. Messy, dark hair framed his handsome face, with his stubbly jaw and wolfish hazel eyes. His shirt, breeches, and waistcoat were simple, but they looked elegant on him in their own way. A smile spread over Gabriel's lips when he saw her standing eagerly in the doorway._

"_My dear Alana," he said, stepping over the threshold and pulling her into his arms. "It's wonderful to see you again. I do hope I'm not late…"_

"_No, no…dinner's almost ready, so you're right on time," Alana said as they broke the embrace. "There's something I need to tell you, though…"_

_She took his hand, leading him to the small couch in the living room. They both sat, and yet, Alana didn't speak a word. Curious-and a little confused-Gabriel reached out, placing a hand on her cheek._

_Alana giggled girlishly, then placed her hand over his and started sliding his hand down, over her jaw and neck, down the laced bodice of her dress, stopping on her stomach. She gently placed her other hand over his, an excited grin on her face. Gabriel was still confused…at least, until he felt something stirring under his hand, something within Alana's body…_

"_You're with child?" he asked, a smile spreading over his face._

_She nodded eagerly. "I'm with child, Gabriel! We're going to have a baby!"_

"_How wonderful," he said, his voice soft with awe as he felt the life that was quickening in her belly squirm under his hand. "Well, then…I suppose that I should ask you…what it is I've wanted to ask you."_

_As Alana looked on, Gabriel slid off the couch, kneeling before Alana and taking her hand. He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, admiring the softness of her skin, his eyes humbly downcast._

"_Alana…I love you. I truly love you," he said softly to her. "And…I want to always be there for you…especially now, with the life quickening within you…the life we created together." He took a breath, then produced a ring from his pocket. His eyes were pleading as he looked up at her. "Will you marry me, my love?"_

_Her eyes lit up instantly at his words, tears of joy sparkling in them. "Oh, Gabriel, my darling, I'd love nothing more! I shall marry you!"_

_She jumped to her feet, her face awash with delight. A beam graced Gabriel's face, and he gently kissed Alana's belly where he had felt their unborn child stirring, and then, he rose and pulled her into his arms, gently kissing her on the lips. When their kiss ended, she laid her head affectionately on his chest. "I love you, Gabriel…"_

"_And I, you, my dear Alana."_

***

All heads turned from Alexandra to Van Helsing when she finished reading the passage. Surprise was etched on the expressions of everyone.

"You loved her?" Lexa asked incredulously.

"You got her pregnant?" Edward said in disbelief.

"She wasn't always a miserable old bat?" Egil mused caustically.

"I don't…remember," Van Helsing admitted. "I remember bits and pieces…but nothing quite like that…"

He trailed off after that, glancing down at the journal he held in his hands. While Alexandra had been reading from the journal she held, he had absently flipped through the pages, coming to rest on a page dated December 18, 1889-two days before he, Carl, and Alexsei had encountered a full-grown Nickelia in Budapest.

"Listen to this," he said to the others, clearing his throat to read the entry…

***

_The door creaked when Alana opened it; the scent of a freshly-brewed potion greeted her, along with the scent of woodsmoke and the faint aroma of potions past. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath of the intoxicating smell…_

_A squirming in her arms brought her back to her senses. Looking down, she saw Nickelia kick and stretch gently in her arms, opening her eyes. She blinked up at Alana, her eyes-now slowly fading from cloudy blue to a stunning shade of emerald-full of innocence. Alana smiled down at her, gently running a hand down Nickelia's cheek. The baby reached and grasped Alana's thumb, gently cooing, a sign of acceptance._

_A shout echoed out down the corridor, followed by the sounds of a violent scuffle. Nickelia's little face scrunched, and she began to cry, frightened by the noise. Alana gently rocked her back and forth, cooing to her in Romanian to calm her, and eventually, the little girl's cries became whimpers instead._

_Hitting the wall with a loud bang, the door flung open, and Matthias and another guard-Sylvan, she believed his name was-stormed in, dragging a bound and gagged Gabrielle with them. The Gypsy vampiress's hair was tangled, with bits of leaves and twigs matted in. Half-healed scratches and bruises marred her face, along with four new, still-bloody scratches, but she was hardly the only one with injuries; Matthias sported a healing split lip, and Sylvan was walking with a limp._

"_This one's got spirit!" the latter declared excitedly._

_Alana smirked. "Well, that simply won't do. We'll have to break that spirit. But first…"_

_She crossed the room to Gabrielle in a few quick steps, one hand reaching out and grabbing hold of the vampiress's hair. She yanked Gabrielle's head back until their eyes met; a wicked smile curled Alana's lips. "You _will_ watch this."_

_Matthias's hand replaced Alana's, holding Gabrielle's head up. One arm still cradling Nickelia, she dipped a goblet into the simmering cauldron in the center of the room, filling it to the brim with the silvery liquid. Curious, though with dread churning in her stomach, Gabrielle watched as Alana knelt on a vast, empty expanse of the stone floor, careful not to spill a single drop of the shimmering potion. She adjusted her hold on Nickelia, supporting her head as though she was going to feed her, and she placed the goblet to the baby's lips._

_With no hesitation, Nickelia drank from the goblet. She hadn't drunk any more than a few sips, however, when Alana pulled the goblet away, setting it out of arm's reach. Her other arm moved to cradle Nickelia, and she gently set her down on the floor, her head supporting the infant's head._

_Nickelia began to squirm and writhe; her whimpering picked up until it was full-fledged wailing. Before Gabrielle's shocked eyes, her daughter began to grow and age, becoming a toddler, a young child, an older child, an adolescent. Growing legs kicked free of the blanket she was swaddled in; her wails of discomfort slowly evolved into full-blown screams of detriment. By the time it was all said and done, she had aged to eighteen years of age. Her screams died down, but as soon as they did, she sat bolt upright, clutching her pink baby blanket to her chest to hide the fact that she had no other clothes on. Her slender form quaked violently in fear, while her emerald eyes darted around the room in fear._

"_W-Where am I?" she stammered, scattering strands of her thick, red-tinged brown hair as she looked around like a terrified doe. "W-What's g-going on?" Her eyes landed on Alana, and it seemed as though something clicked. "M-Mother?"_

_Alana nodded and placed a comforting, reassuring arm around her shoulders. "Yes, my darling Nickelia, I am your mother."_

"_W-What h-happened? W-Where am I-I?"_

"_You're safe," Alana cooed, stroking her hair. She gestured to Gabrielle with her available hand. "She and her fiendish husband…they stole you away from me, and tried to turn you against me! They even lied to you, saying you were their daughter!"_

_Nickelia gasped. "They did?!"_

_Alana nodded solemnly. "It hurt me so, but…you have been returned, thank Lucifer…"_

_Nickelia nodded before turning her gaze to Gabrielle. She cocked her head like a curious bird at the trussed-up vampiress, and a flicker of anger briefly contorted her features, before her face smoothed once more. She stood slowly, leaning heavily on Alana as she struggled to regain her footing. She released the small blanket, letting it flutter to the ground, unabashed by the fact that she was now completely naked before the eyes of two male guards. Boldly, she crossed the room to Gabrielle…and proceeded to viciously rain blows down on her, snarling like a rabid beast, her eyes glowing blood-red. Neither Alana nor the guards made any attempt to stop Nickelia, even when blood started to spew from Gabrielle's mouth, staining the cloth gagging her an onyx color._

_Her fury finally died, and she delivered a painful final blow to the vampiress before spitting on her in disgust. Contempt burned in her crimson orbs as she looked down at Gabrielle._

"_Foolish woman," she growled. "For thinking you could pit a child against her mother, a Tremarie against a Tremarie."_

_She spat once more, then turned to Alana, who beamed proudly at Nickelia for her handling of Gabrielle._

"_Excellent work, my daughter," Alana praised. "Now come…let us get you some new clothes. Matthias, Sylvan…take that Gypsy filth to the dungeon."_

***

A deep frown crossed Van Helsing's face as he came to the end of the entry. "So…that's what the conniving little snake did to Nickelia…aged her and used her lack of memories against her…"

"It's really not uncommon," Alexandra said, tucking a blonde lock behind her ear. "What do you think Sirius, my so-called father, did to me? I couldn't remember anything from before the bite…"

"Don't remind me," Alexsei growled darkly, peering at the book over the hunter's shoulder. "I'm curious about the potion, though…Rolf, any idea as to exactly what this is?"

"Wish I could say I knew, but I really don't," Rolf commented. "Drow magic and human magic is so vastly different, remember?" He paused, a brow furrowing as he thought. "Though, if I had a guess, I'd say it's some kind of aging potion…"

"Is that even possible?" Andreas called down the table.

As a quiet debate erupted, the hunter turned his attention back to the journal he held. As he read over Alana's tidy, flowing handwriting, one line, the line at the very end of the entry he had just read, caught his eye. He brought the book a little closer to his face to read what was written:

_So good to have my daughter back once more._

"My…daughter..?" he whispered quietly, utterly confused…and yet, at the same time, horror was gnawing at his stomach. _This can't possibly mean…can it..?_

He began to flip back through the pages with a renewed purpose, looking for any possible explanation. The problem was there were no entries between November 21st and December 9th-Van Helsing supposed that was when Alana was interned at the Vatican. There was, however, an entry from November 19th that rather caught his attention…

***

_Screams of utter agony tore through the early-morning silence of Drakebane Manor. But the stillness was not because that massive coven of vampires was all asleep, dead to the world. No, this silence was a tense one; most of the coven was gathered outside of the manor's master suite, standing in order of seniority and importance, waiting anxiously and wincing every time another pained shriek abused their sensitive ears._

"_You're almost done, Lady Alana!" a slightly-panicky midwife tried to assure her. "The baby is almost here!"_

"_MAKE IT STOP!" Alana howled, oblivious to the woman's words. Beads of blood-tainted sweat and dried, bloody tears of pain streaked her face, now paler than usual and contorted in torment. Her black hair was plastered to her neck and matted by sweat; her ice-blue eyes glowed fiercely and her fangs flashed dangerously._

"_Just push, my lady!" a maid instructed, rushing forward to dab at Alana's brow with a damp cloth. "The baby is almost out. I'm sure one more push would do…"_

_Alana nodded, closing her eyes to prepare for the immense pain. The maid hesitated for a moment, then took Alana's hand, to offer unspoken comfort._

"_Push!"_

_No more than a moment later, a shriek tore from Alana's lips, and her face contorted again. A resounding crack echoed out as she accidently broke the hand of the maid; the young vampiress swallowed back a pained yelp._

_And then…it was over. Her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps, Alana slumped back against her pillows, releasing the maid's hand. Her eyes, now fading back to brown slowly, fluttered closed out of exhaustion. In the background, the midwife muttered something…and then, a baby's soft cry._

"_B-Boy or g-g-girl?" Alana asked, opening her eyes. _

_The midwife smiled as she approached Alana, a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. "A girl, my lady," she announced as the placed the bundle in the new mother's arms. "A healthy, beautiful girl."_

_She couldn't help but smile tenderly at the tiny girl in her arms, who had stopped crying and was staring up at her with large, cloudy blue eyes. She gave a little yawn, then cooed when Alana ran a finger down her cheek._

My little girl, _she thought to herself. _My healthy, beautiful baby girl…_She briefly thought back, remembering how her daughter came to be. A smile curled her lips. _Lucifer's twice-blessed angel.

"_The future holds big things for you, my dark little angel…" she said softly to her daughter._

***

The book nearly slipped from Van Helsing's hands in all his shock and surprise…and horror. Alana's words, the ones he'd read in her diary, rang in his ears: _Lucifer's twice-blessed angel._

_Lucifer's twice-blessed…as in twice-cursed…_he thought to himself. _Which could really only imply one thing…a hybrid…_

"I'll be damned," he muttered, just loud enough that everyone in the room could hear his revelation. "Nickelia…my daughter, Nickelia…is _Alana's_ daughter…"

* * *

Van Helsing: _-rounds on me- _WHAT?!

_What what?_

Van Helsing: You know what what! Nickelia is her- _-jabs finger at Alana- _-daughter?!

Alana: Yes. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Van Helsing: You know what it means! How in God's name can she be your daughter?

Alexsei: Rora...you might have a riot on your hands...

_I noticed that...can you help me bring it under control?_

Alexsei: Sure. What do you need me to do?

_You go get Alana. I'll go take care of Van Helsing._

Alexsei: _-looks warily at Alana- _Why did you have to give me the psychopathic, homicidal, vampiric sorceress?

_Because you're not human. She'll have a harder time ripping you to shreds._

Alexsei: Gee, thanks.

_You can take her! -pulls out pompoms- Al, Al, he's our man, if he can't do it, no one can!_

Alexsei: Okay..._-goes and puts Alana in a headlock-_

_-goes and puts an enchanted string of prayer beads around Van Helsing's neck- Sit, boy!_

Van Helsing: _-crashes to floor- _Owww...

_Wow...didn't expect those to actually work..._

Van Helsing: _-glowers- _I'll get you for that later. So, do you plan on giving us an explanation as to how my daughter was born of the Devil's spawn?

Alana: _-bites thumb- _Oh, like you're so holy and virtuous, Gabriel. As Aurora clearly explained in that first little flashback, you slept with me outside of wedlock and got me pregnant outside of wedlock. Thought you Catholics didn't believe in that!

_You two! Can it! And to answer your question, Gabriel...no, I don't._

Alexsei: Huh?

Van Helsing: Why the hell not?

_Because that's next chapter, silly!_

Van Helsing: ...I knew that.

_Well, I shall leave you here, while I attempt to keep these two from killing each other. Hope you enjoyed and please, leave a review!_


	16. Drinking, Lying, Cheating, and Dying

_**A/N: **Well, after a long wait (and quite a bit of confusion, if I'm understanding the reviews), here it is, chapter sixteen, which should hopefully clear up any questions, flashback-style! However, I do warn you, this chapter is mildly raunchy at one point, so reader beware (but it's really not that bad)._

_Also, thanks to **Guen Van Helsing, musiclover209, Kairi's-twin, **and, of course, **SpeedDemon315 **for their reviews! Don't know where I'd be without you guys!_

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Drinking, Lying, Cheating, and Dying

At his words, everyone in the room turned their heads towards Van Helsing, their eyes wide, faces frozen in shock. Even Egil, whose face was normally stoic and unreadable, had a look of surprise on his face. And the room was silent as a tomb…

"You're _shitting_ me!" Carl blurted out, clearly the first to recover from his shock. Every head in the room instantly turned towards him, all shocked to hear him curse…well, except for Van Helsing, who, after eight years of working with Carl, had pretty much expected this.

Carl blinked in bemusement. "What?"

"Well-" Van Helsing began, before thinking better of it. He raised a hand and shook his head. "You know what? Never mind."

"_How?_" Alexsei breathed in disbelief. "How is that possible?"

"Who would the father be?" Carl asked. He picked up a journal and began to leaf through it, as if it could give him an answer.

"I would think a vampire…" Lexa offered. "She doesn't seem like the type to sleep with someone outside her species…"

"Oh, no…Nickelia's father is a werewolf," Van Helsing said. "He has to be…Nickelia's a hybrid of both vampire and werewolf…"

"A bit of a nasty one, too…" Alexsei added, fingering the pale scars that trekked across his face, souvenirs of her claws, back in the nasty fight in Vilkova Cemetery.

"A vampire-werewolf hybrid?" Egil asked. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that a supernatural impossibility? Vampire blood doesn't mix with werewolf blood and vice versa."

"A hybrid is only impossible to create by turning," Carl offered. "I took the liberty to look into hybrids after our last little encounter with Nickelia. Apparently, hybrids such as her are only created by the union of a vampire and a werewolf…an equal mixing of the bloods. They're immensely powerful-the cunning mind of a vampire, plus the brute strength of a werewolf. Absolutely lethal. And so hard to kill, too…"

"We're not aiming to kill, Carl," Van Helsing growled in a low voice. "I won't kill the girl I took in as my daughter, no matter who her parents are."

"I never said we were aiming to kill-"

"All right, not to come off as uncaring and impatient-even though I am," Akyra interrupted Carl. "But who the bloody hell is her father?"

"Well, we haven't quite gotten that far yet…"

"Then let's get that far!" Akyra suggested loudly. "All right…so this Nickelia girl has a werewolf father. Now…are we sure we can rule out any and all male werewolves in this room..?"

A lot of people in the room blinked in surprise at Akyra's boldness-particularly Alexsei, Andreas, and Edward, being the three male werewolves in question. Akyra first turned her scrutiny on Alexsei. He gave her a disgusted look and held up his left hand, showing her the simple golden wedding band that he wore.

"Happily married," he growled. "And I've no interest in sneaking around behind Catherine's back with as venomous a snake as Alana."

"I'm engaged," Andreas said. "And I didn't even know who Alana was until maybe two months ago."

"And I've never met her," Edward said, putting up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"So I think it's safe to rule out all male werewolves here, _Frauline_ Akyra," Rolf said with a little smirk on his face.

"Just making sure," she replied with a little shrug of her shoulders and a smirk of her own.

Van Helsing felt the book he had been holding being tugged gently out of his hands. He glanced down and found little Sigrid taking the journal in her hands. "Begging your pardon, Herr Van Helsing," she said softly. "I just wanted to see if _Savne_ Alana maybe ever mentioned the father of _Savne_ Nickelia…she might have written about him when she found out she was with child…"

Impressed by the young girl's sharp mind, Van Helsing nodded and allowed the girl to read through the diary. After a moment, she pressed it back to Van Helsing, her features a bit frustrated.

"I think it starts a bit too late," she said. "The first entry is on March 15th…that might be a little too late."

Van Helsing nodded, then opened the book once more. As he scanned the page, a name snared his attention, a very familiar name: Sirius de Autechane.

_Sirius?_ He thought to himself. _Why would Alana write about him? Did she even know him?_

Thinking back, he recalled seeing a familiar face in the crowd the night he, Catherine, Alexsei, Gabrielle, and Carl had gone to fight Sirius…the pale face of a vampire, his hair tied back in a ponytail, his green eyes glittering like chips of jade-colored ice-Matthias. If Matthias was there, and Matthias was Alana's chief guard, then clearly, Alana was somehow connected to Sirius.

Intrigued, Van Helsing went back to the top of the first entry and began to read.

***

_Alana sighed as she sat down at the counter of the tavern, her back to the noisy, drunken, promiscuous activities happening at the tavern. One hand cupped her chin, and she heaved another sigh, the image of defeat. For reasons unknown to her, two and a half centuries of loneliness (at least, as far as the company of men went), combined with failure at her goal of killing the Van Helsing siblings, had come crashing down on her, putting her in a foul mood._

_A foul mood that not even chasing down a hapless peasant and gorging herself on his blood had cured._

_Suddenly, she caught a whiff of something that smelled very much so like dog, and the stool next to her creaked, as someone sat down next to her. She turned, her mouth already opened and ready to tell whoever had chosen to sit next to her exactly where to go…but she stopped short upon seeing who was sitting next to her._

_He was a young man, probably no older than twenty-four or twenty-five. His hair was down to his shoulders, and a medium shade of brown that suited his somewhat-aristocratic features as well. His clothes were simple, and had clearly seen better days, but at the same time, his slightly worn looks gave him some kind of rugged sexiness that Alana couldn't deny appealed to her._

_He turned to her, and she found herself caught off guard by his rich, emerald eyes. Not only were they quite stunning (as she had always been captivated by green or greenish eyes), but…she saw something in them, something that stated plainly he'd either had a very eventful life…or he wasn't quite human._

_A little smile came over his face. "You looked as though you could've used some company," he informed her smoothly. "A lovely woman such as yourself shouldn't be forced to sit alone."_

"_But what if I choose to sit by myself?" she replied wittily._

"_Well, if that's the case, then I'd be tempted to ask to why you sit alone." The bartender approached, and the young man placed a few lei into his hand. "Two glasses of your finest absinthe. And please, keep it coming."_

_The barkeep left to fill his order, and Alana waited until the man's attention was on her before saying, "If you're so tempted to ask why I sit alone, why not ask?"_

"_Because you looked to be in a foul mood, which would lead me to believe the reason you sit alone could be a point of contention for you. And I rather value my life…"_

Smart boy, _she thought to herself. "Well, don't you worry your pretty little head-the reason I'm less than thrilled has nothing to do with me sitting alone. You may ask away."_

_He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand, stopping him. "But first," she simpered in a coy fashion. "I should like to know your name."_

_The barkeep returned with two glasses of absinthe, flames dancing on the minty-green surface of the liquid in both glasses. He placed a palm over the mouth of the glass, smothering the flames before draining half the glass. "Sirius. Sirius de Autechane."_

"_I've heard of you," Alana drawled, demurely sipping her absinthe. "You're the leader of the de Autechane pack…"_

"_You know your werewolf packs," Sirius complemented, draining his glass. The barkeep brought him another, and also placed a fresh glass before Alana, who, for all her demure sipping, had nearly drained her glass. "I'm impressed, Miss..?"_

"_Alana Tremarie," she finished, putting out the flames on the surface of her absinthe before taking a deeper swig than her previous ones. Sirius raised a brow in surprise._

"_Alana Tremarie? As in the leader of the Drakebane Coven? The Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania?" He tipped his glass back, emptying its contents down his throat. _

_She nodded. "The very same. You know your vampire covens."_

"_Always on the lookout for a possible ally…"_

_Alana slid her empty glass forward, just as the barkeep came and replaced it with a full on "Allies against who?"_

"_Gabriel Van Helsing."_

_The glass slipped from Alana's hand, and had it not been for Sirius's quick reflexes, the glass would have shattered on the floor. Her eyes were full of surprise._

"_You bear a grudge against him, too?"_

"_Every damn day."_

"_Personal, or general?"_

_Sirius paused, thinking it over. "A little bit of both. Naturally, I'd like to see his end for the safety of my pack, but…it's more than that. There's no real reason or rhyme to it, I just…want him dead." He frowned. "And his little harlot of a sister, too. She robbed me of my pack's healer, my beta, by enticing him, making him fall in love with her. And once she had ensnared him completely, he told my girl, my Chandara-his niece-that I'd lied to her, stolen her away from her parents. He turned her against me."_

"_So you just hate them both," Alana said, more a statement than a question as she pushed forward two empty glasses of absinthe (both of which she'd drank while Sirius had been talking) towards the bartender. A single leu ensured that he wouldn't question how much absinthe she'd had to drink._

_He nodded. "That I do. I take it you do as well…"_

"_I don't know your pack's beta," she slurred, crossing one leg over the other, one of her legs brushing-and momentarily lingering-against Sirius's leg. "But I know Catherine Van Helsing." She leaned in close to Sirius, her next words a whisper off her crimson lips: "And I will kill that self-righteous brat. I will kill her, make sure she suffers, and make sure Gabriel is forced to watch her suffer."_

"_And then you'll kill Gabriel, too?" Sirius asked, a note of enthrallment in his voice._

_She nodded. "I'll end his miserable little life once and for all."_

_A smirk danced over Sirius's lips. "But what if I want to put an end to that damnable hunter and his brat sister myself?"_

_Alana returned his coy smirk. "Perhaps, dear Sirius, you and I can come to an arrangement…"_

***

_Matthias hurried down one of the upper hallways of Drakebane Manor, where all the higher-ups of the coven-especially Alana –slept, rushing past the servants who were closing the heavy drapes to block out the coming dawn. He hadn't found Alana in her study, nor down in what she deemed to be the "common area", so he could only assume she had already retired for the evening._

_But what he had to tell her couldn't wait until night fell again._

_Without even bothering to knock, Matthias strode right on in through the double doors, into the master suite that Alana called her room…_

…_Only to receive the biggest shock in his very long life._

_Alana wasn't asleep, as he had thought, nor was she preparing for bed. Instead, she stood before the bed, grinning coyly at an awestruck man with messy brown hair, who was seated on the edge of the bed. She wore only a lightweight, silky, dark purple gown, and the man's shirt was missing, leaving no mistake as to what they were about to do._

_In the split second before the door had banged against the wall and alerted the both of them to his presence, the man had stood, wrapped one arm around Alana's waist, and slid the strap of the provocative gown off one of her shoulders._

_And then the door banged against the wall, breaking the spell completely. Alana whipped her head around, her eyes glowing electric blue as she glared at her chief guard. The man just sort of stared at him, confused by the interruption, his senses most likely dulled by the absinthe (which Matthias caught a whiff of on him and Alana both)._

"_This had better be important," Alana growled, her words sliding into each other. "If not, it'll be your head. I'm entertaining company."_

_A sly smirk crept over Matthias's face. "_Company_. I can see that."_

_Alana's eyes narrowed. "Are you insinuating something?"_

"_Only based upon what I've seen thus far, Mistress. And you might want to…" He trailed off and tapped his shoulder._

_Alana blinked at him blankly. "What?"_

_The guard gave a sigh-she must've drank a lot, to be so off game-then closed the short distance between him and her and pulled the strap of her dress a little higher on her shoulder, keeping her somewhat decent._

Not that I care if she's indecent…_ he thought licentiously to himself._

_He nodded, a wolfish grin on his face. "Now…perhaps I should get out of your hair as you…appear to have a gentleman caller."_

_She narrowed her eyes once more. "Don't be ridiculous. Sirius isn't a gentleman caller," she defended, even as Sirius slid his head down the length of Alana's thigh._

"_Then what is her, may I ask?"_

_She appeared to ponder his question over for a minute before speaking once more, "An ally. Matthias, may I introduce you to Sirius de Autechane, leader of the de Autechane pack and ally of the Drakebane Coven."_

_Matthias's brow furrowed. "You formed an alliance with a pack of dogs? My lady, I must protest-"_

"_Am I not the master of this coven?" Alana cut in, her voice dangerously soft, with an edge to it._

"_All I'm saying is-"_

"_Answer the question, Matthias. Am I or am I not the master of this coven?"_

"_Well…yes, you are…"_

"_Very good. I am. And, as the master of this coven, am I or am I not the one entitled to make decisions about alliances for the good of the coven?"_

"_You are."_

"_So you can be taught. Good. Now, listen to me and listen well, for I'll not repeat myself: I don't care if you don't agree with this alliance, or if you don't trust Sirius and his pack. Truly, I don't give a damn, Matthias. I am the coven leader, not you, and I have made this decision for the good of the coven. Got it?"_

_Matthias nodded, stung slightly by her words. She gave a small, drunken half-grin. "Good. Now-" She pointed to the doors. "-Out. I have…_negotiations_ to make with dear Sirius."_

_Again, Matthias gave a nod and left the room, pulling the double doors closed behind him. Her wicked grin returned, and she took Sirius's hands, placing them on her shoulders, over the straps, dragging his hands downward, and the straps with them. The slinky gown slithered down her body, to the floor._

"_Now where were we?"_

***

"Please close that thing now before we get any mental images we don't want!" Akyra pleaded. Van Helsing snapped out of his daze, shutting the diary quickly.

Alexsei suddenly groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Too late…"

"Amen to that," Rolf chimed in.

"And this is what we call an 'attack of the dirty minds' moment," Akyra stated, chuckling a little.

Van Helsing looked around. Much to his surprise, everyone was gathered around him, a strange mix of revulsion and curiosity on their faces. Egil had his hands placed firmly over Sigrid's ears; her young face was bore a disgruntled expression from being excluded from the happenings. He blinked in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. "Was I reading aloud?"

"Only a little, at first," Alexandra said. "But we started to get curious, and Akyra told you to read louder, so you did…"

"And now, we wish you hadn't," Andreas commented with a look of repulsion.

Edward nodded. "I concur. Were Sirius still alive, I don't think I'd ever be able to look at him the same way…"

Alexsei nodded in agreement, and Alexandra shuddered profusely. Adolpha, however, kept an amazingly stoic, unsurprised look on her face. This puzzled Van Helsing; he expected a raging outburst from her, after all, she had just found out her husband had cheated on her. He turned his curious attention on her. "You know, Adolpha, I expected you to be quite angry about what you've just heard…"

"Werewolves are known for having trysts while promised to or wed to another. And these trysts aren't exclusively with werewolves. They have been known to occur with all manner of supernaturals, humans, even…I'm not mad. I can understand Sirius coupling the night away with Alana, especially drunk." She gave a little grin. "God knows I haven't been completely faithful to Sirius."

"And I think we can just stop right there, Mother," Alexandra said, holding up a hand.

"Well," Egil stated in a business-like fashion, releasing his hold over Sigrid's ears. "If nothing else, we know who Nickelia's father is now."

"Which means we know what we're up against, in a sense," Van Helsing said. "Sirius was an incredibly powerful werewolf, and Alana…"

"Might you say female equivalent of Dracula?" Kaja asked.

The hunter nodded. "I suppose you could say that. Basically, this has made Nickelia one powerful hybrid. No doubt, Alana's going to use her to defend the manor…"

"And if the old bat's finally figured out that Egil got past her guards and robbed her library, then no doubt, she'll tighten security. She'd be an idiot if she didn't," Rolf stated. A snarky grin danced on his lips. "Granted, that's not saying much."

"To get in and kill her, I think it's safe to say we need an army," Kaja said.

"And I think I know where we could get an army…or, at least, some soldiers," Adolpha said, a thoughtful smile budding on her face.

* * *

Gabriel: _-looks at Alana-_ Sirius?!

Alana: What about him?

Gabriel: _Sirius_ is Nickelia's father?

Alexsei: The same Sirius who was the leader of my pack and the man who killed my family, bit me, and lied to my niece for three centuries?

Alana: _-rolls eyes-_ No, I'm talking about the Sirius from those ridiculous Harry Potter books that Aurora reads. YES, I'm talking about that Sirius, idiots!

_First off, Harry Potter is not ridiculous. Second...why? I thought werewolves and vampires didn't do **that**. I thought that was a complete taboo!_

Alana: _-sighs-_ War makes strange bedfellows, Aurora. Plus... _-looks sheepish-_ I was a little tipsy...

Sirius's Ghost: _-pops up with incredulous expression-_ A little tipsy? Woman, you were drunk off your ass!

Alana: _-points accusingly-_ So were you!

Sirius's Ghost: Yes, but you were the one who invited me back to your manor and practically dragged me bakc to your bedroom! You're the one who started all this!

Alana: At least I didn't cheat on my wife with a woman outside my species!

Sirius's Ghost: At least I didn't get knocked up with a half-bred kid! HA! _-points finger-_

Alana: Oh, go die off, won't you, you flea-bitten mutt of a bedwarmer!

Gabriel: Alana...he is dead already...

Alana: _**SHUT UP, GABRIEL!**_

Sirius's Ghost: Oh, back up off him, you obnoxious old hag!

Gabriel: _-cocks an eyebrow-_ You're defending me? Great...now I feel bad about killing you.

Sirius's Ghost: _-waits a moment-_ Do you still feel bad about killing me?

Gabriel: Nope, feeling's past.

Sirius's Ghost: Eh..._ -disappears-_

_All right...thus ends these rather unorthodox author's notes. I'll see you guys next chapter, provided Alana doesn't kill me..._

Alana: _-gives authoress nasty gesture with a certain finger-_ I hate you all.


	17. Revels of Night

_**A/N: **Hello, my freaky darlings! Okay, I'll admit, it's been a long time since I posted a chapter-I'm really sorry about that. I had to do a 35-page piece for Creative Writing class, and that took up a LOT of my free time. You have no idea._

_Anyways, I'd like to thank **Kryptonian250, SpeedDemon315, LunarLycan87, **and, last but certainly not least, my old pal **Dr. Lust, **who's finally returned to us here at FF! -does a dance of victory-_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Van Helsing, or any of my friends characters. Everyone else is mine._

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Revels of Night

Thanatos ran a finger down the spine of a book, admiring the feel of the soft, slightly worn leather under his fingers. After a moment, he gingerly removed the book, being careful not to damage it. _I'm sure Alana won't thank me for messing up one of her books._

The pages were old, starting to crinkle and yellow, and the gold lettering on the cover was peeling and flaking off, but he could still gauge the contents of the book fairly well: A collection of fairy tales by an unknown author. A small smirk came to his face._ Perhaps a remnant of Alana's childhood?_

Delicate footsteps echoed out in the hallways beyond the library, sounding as though they were made by someone wearing high-heeled boots. A moment later, Alana appeared in the doorway of the library, looking haggard and rather annoyed. Her frustrated expression softened slightly when she saw Thanatos.

"Oh…hello, Thanatos," she said. "You wouldn't have happened to see Matthias, would you? Lousy good-for-nothing guard…"

"I saw him a little earlier. I believe he's busy with Clarissa…"

Alana rolled her eyes. "Of course…what a lecher." She cast the dark-haired necromancer. "I'm terribly sorry if that's of any inconvenience to you."

"Not at all," he stated suavely, looking up from the book in his hands. "I have a feeling I know what the two of them are up to, and I think Clarissa will be more than fine with it."

"Hmm," Alana mused as she walked into the library, strolling up to Thanatos casually…yet, in a strangely sensuous way that commanded his attention at once. "Well, I suppose as long as you don't mind."

He shook his head. "No, I don't. Rather, I'm quite used to it."

She peered curiously at the tome in his hands. He closed the book and held it up, the tiniest of grins on his face. "Fairytales."

Alana's expression brightened. "I had nearly forgotten this…" She reached for the book, and Thanatos passed it to her at once. She ran a hand over the cover, the smallest of smiles on her face, almost as if the book was her very own child.

"I take it there's some history behind the book?" Thanatos asked.

"I was raised from the cradle on these tales," she explained, absently tracing the letters on the cover. "My father would read them to me every night. And when I was old enough, he taught me how to read them myself. It's one of the few things I took with me when I ran."

"So I take it these are classic Romanian tales?"

She nodded, opening the book. "Indeed…they're all classic Romanian fairytales, passed down through my father's family line. These tales date back to the days when Dracula was mortal, and beyond…"

Thanatos leaned a little closer, to inspect the page Alana had the book opened to. Text flowed across the page, written in elegant, scripted hand, but entirely in Romanian, a language the necromancer was not fluent in.

Without warning, Alana snapped the book shut, bringing forth a fine cloud of dust. She set it aside quickly, and before the self-proclaimed reaper could comprehend what was going on, and react to the situation, Alana had seized his face with both hands and pressed her lips against his in a passionate, fiery kiss.

He stiffened in shock, a kiss being the very last entity he expected from Alana. But the initial shock soon wore off, and he found that the experience was, far less of a shock as it had been initially. Alana's lips were cool-not a surprise, as the blood that ran in her veins was also cool-but pleasant and refreshing. Her hands, now resting against his cheeks, were soft and silky; her thumb glided gently back and forth over the scar on his left cheekbone, as if she were caressing it. Thanatos's hands moved to cradle her head as the kiss continued.

They broke apart after a long moment, both of them panting for breath, even though only Thanatos needed to breathe. The vampiric witch's cheeks were flushed a pale pink, and her eyes were alive, the chocolate color shot through with strands of azure.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Alana panted, triumph in her voice. "And I don't regret it one bit."

"You shouldn't regret it," the necromancer replied, a small, roughish grin on his face. "Because I don't regret it either."

Again, their lips met; Thanatos backed her against a bookcase, his hands encompassing her slender waist. She pushed his ebony robe from his shoulders (which he shed gladly) before running her hands down his muscular torso.

"Let's hope you've closed and locked the door," Thanatos whispered, moving his hungry lips down Alana's neck. "We won't want interruptions…"

Alana waved her hand towards the door; the door slammed shut, clicking as it locked, and she arched her body against Thanatos. "And we won't get any…"

***

Van Helsing hadn't expected to return to Strenotia. It had been the last thing on his mind.

Not much had changed in the six months since he'd been there. The few villagers that were milling around at the late hour seemed more at ease, but nothing else had changed, as far as he could tell.

Ahead of him, Edward and Adolpha, both mounted on a dappled gray stallion from the barns of Liakov Manor, sighed.

"It's wonderful to be back," Adolpha commented cheerfully.

"She's right, it is good to be back," Alexandra agreed. Carl, who had been riding by Van Helsing's side, dropped back until both his and Alexandra's horses were trotting side-by-side.

"Is this where you grew up, Chandara?"

She nodded. "Born and raised. But I haven't come back since I left…"

Van Helsing noticed that Edward and Adolpha kept leading them through town, instead of off the path and into the narrow dirt trail through the woods, the way Alexsei had taken him. He looked around curiously; Alexsei seemed confused, too.

"Edward!" Alexsei called. "Where are you taking us? This leads away from the pack!"

He shook his head. "Not anymore-after the last little invasion, we switched locations!" He shot a wolfish grin at Van Helsing. "Not that we don't like you or anything, we just don't care much for visitors!"

The hunter nodded. "I quite understand."

Edward led them past the outskirts of town, into an area where the trees were thick but not quite so dense. The path was rough and uneven, clogged by roots of the huge trees that sheltered the path with their limbs. The moon shone through the bare bones of the tree limbs.

"Where exactly is your pack located, anyways, Russia?" Egil groused. For the journey, he had shifted into a palomino charger; Sigrid was riding on his back, sound asleep, her small fingers curled into his white-blonde mane. Steam jetted from his nostrils.

"No, not quite that far out, Mr. Swenhaugen," Adolpha said with a grin. "Matter of fact, we're coming up on our home now…"

They burst through the trees, into a large, cleared area that looked as though part of it had, at one time, been somewhat of a plantation. A manor sat upon the lands, one proud, now falling to ruin. A few wild-looking men and women, as well as several large werewolves, sulked around on the front porch and front lawn. Alexsei gave a gasp, eyes wide.

"Are you all right, _Herr_ Alexsei?" Sigrid asked in concern, urging Egil forward so she was near Alexsei. "What's wrong?"

"This…I…I never thought I would see this place again…" Alexsei said, his eyes fixed on the rundown manor. "This is my family's estate-_this_ is Dunkirk Manor. I thought it would have been long gone by now…"

Edward shook his head. "No…I must say, it makes for a good place for the pack. Thanks, Alexsei-you don't mind, do you?"

He shook his head. "I ran from this place over three centuries ago. I never sought it in the time that passed. It's all yours."

Werewolves, in human- and wolf-skin alike, began to venture closer, made curious by the arrival of the large group. Edward and Adolpha dismounted with ease, and all the werewolves in close proximity dropped to their knees, exposing their necks to the two of them. Van Helsing dismounted quickly, watching everyone else as they followed suit. Sigrid clamored down from her uncle's back, and he immediately shifted to his original form and moved to help Kaja down from the mare she rode on. She accepted his help with a shy smile and a few soft words of thanks. Rolf, like his companion, moved to help Akyra from her saddle, but his method was different-he grasped her around her waist and lifted her off the horse, placing her on the ground. He flashed a roguish grin, and she returned it with a smirk of her own.

"How gentlemanly of you," she complimented. "And extremely graceful, too-you could be a dancer, you know."

"Sometimes, _dancer_ isn't far off from _warrior_," he replied wittily. "War is my dance, _Frauline_ Akyra."

Not too far off, both Alexsei and Alexandra had dismounted, and now, Alexandra was helping Carl from his saddle. His face turned a vivid enough shade of scarlet to get a chuckle out of Lexa and Andreas as they walked past.

"Hey! What is he doing here?!"

An outraged cry caught Van Helsing's attention; he turned around and found a wild-looking man pointing an accusatory finger to him, a dark scowl on his face.

Adolpha stepped forward. "Almássy, calm yourself…"

"He brought death down upon this pack!" another werewolf yelled out, a little further back.

"He brought the traitor back!" a young woman called, pointing to Alexsei.

"I say death to them all!" A large man, large enough to be an alpha male, screamed. Cheers met him, and Edward and Adolpha tried in vain to calm the pack.

Suddenly, Alexandra stormed forward, face twisted in a disgusted snarl, hands clenched at her sides. She pushed past Adolpha and Edward, jumping onto a stump to make up for the fact that she was, as far as werewolves went, even in human form, rather small. "_SILENCE!_"

All the chatting, chanting werewolves quieted immediately, all heads turning to Alexandra. She eyed the crowd rather disapprovingly. "Don't think I didn't hear the traitor comment, Nemes, because I did," she growled; the woman who'd labeled Alexsei a traitor lowered her head and whimpered. "And Vasilescu, you and the rest of the pack asked for what Mr. Van Helsing brought upon you, following Sirius so blindly into calling the attention of the Vatican."

She threw her shoulders back before speaking once more, "Listen to me, all of you! Mr. Van Helsing is not the enemy! None of us are! We come to you tonight to beseech you, all of you, for your help. We face a threat, a menace to us all, to our lives…and, if she has her way, your lives as well."

There was a flurry of activity at her words; werewolves exchanged nervous glances, whispers flew once more, although the former pack princess didn't seem to mind this time. "Alana wants to rule the world, that much we all know," she said, her voice softer, almost as if she were going to plead with them. "But can you guarantee that life will be better if she establishes the vampires as the dominant race? Think about it…is your life bad now? You have shelter. You have game to hunt. You have two competent leaders-" She motioned to Edward and Adolpha.

"And I've made my separate peace with all of you," Van Helsing chimed in suddenly, taking a step forward. "I have no intentions of hurting any of you…why would I?"

"See? I'd say your life is fine how it is!" Her voice rose once more. "But what can Alana promise you? The treaty between herself and Sirius was broken upon his death! We're nothing more than the dirt on her fancy-schmancy high-heeled boots now!"

She paused, taking a breath, before saying one more thing: "Do you _really_ want that?"

Silence ruled for a long, long moment, and then, far back in the crowd, a fist soared into the sky. "_Trăiască în noaptea!_"

Gradually at first, but with more fervor each second, the cry picked up, until the whole crowd was yelling it, chanting in what sounded like Romanian. Those who didn't seem to be fluent in Romanian looked around, confused; Alexsei, Edward, and Adolpha had taken up the cry with the rest of the pack.

Van Helsing glanced up at Alexandra. "What are they saying?"

"_Trăiască în noaptea_," she said, smiling in satisfaction and folding her arms across her chest. "Long live the night."

* * *

Alexsei: _-cheering-_Whoo! That's my niece, telling off the entire pack!

Van Helsing: How'd she do that without them trying to, oh, I don't know, kill her?

Alexsei: Because she still has a high status, even if Sirius is dead. She's technically still pack princess.

Van Helsing: Ah...that makes sense. _-looks around-_ Where's Alana?

_I have an idea, but I don't think you want to know..._

Van Helsing: ...oh. Right. _-shudders-_ I don't even want to think about that...

Alexsei: Same here!

_Then let's not think about that. Here-I have something that will distract you: A song that always makes me think of Alana and Thanatos-!_

Van Helsing: That's not helping!

_It's called "Passion's Killing Floor", by H.I.M., who I've recently discovered totally rocks-_

Alexsei: I think you're making it worse!

_Sorry! Anyways, thanks for reading the chapter, please enjoy the lyrics!_

_**Passion's Killing Floor  
**H.I.M. (His Infernal Majesty, for those of you who don't know)_

It's poetry carved in flesh  
This beautiful Hell of ours  
To the deadliest sin we confess  
Tears of joy fill our eyes

We are safe where disfigured saints  
Cry out their prophecies of doom

My heart's a graveyard, baby  
And to evil we make love  
On our passion's killing floor  
In my arms, you won't sleep safely  
And of lust we are reborn  
On our passion's killing floor

And at first kiss the seeds  
Of hatred are sewn  
And back into darkness we flee  
To tear our hearts out

We are saved where all faiths fail  
Alive inside of our tomb

My heart's a graveyard, baby  
And to evil we make love  
On our passion's killing floor  
In my arms, you won't sleep safely  
And of lust we are reborn  
On our passion's killing floor

My heart's a graveyard, baby  
And to evil we make love  
On our passion's killing floor  
In my arms, you won't sleep safely  
And of lust we are reborn  
On our passion's killing floor

My heart's a graveyard, baby  
Oh, my heart's a graveyard, baby  
On our passion's killing floor  
In my arms you won't sleep safely  
And to evil we make love  
On our passion's killing floor

Forevermore


	18. Dark Leaders, Dark Lives

_**A/N: **I apologize for the wait, I didn't mean for this to take as long as it did. However, events come up and things get a little crazy, you know how that goes. Luckily, the school year is starting to wind down, and if I play my cards right, I might get out of school a little earlier than expected (hurray for junior/senior exam exemptions!) so I'll try to get chapters out a little quicker._

_Before we'd begin, I'd like to thank **Dr. Lust**, **SpeedDemon315**, and **Fop Huntress** for the reviews._

_And I'd like to dedicate this chapter to **Lord of Impeccable Timing**, who demanded an overly-French vampire in this chapter and got her wish! Thanks for playing afternoon chauffer so I don't have to take the bus home! XD_

_**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Van Helsing. If I ever get enough money, though, Stephan Sommers better watch out, I'm coming to get those rights of his..._

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Dark Leaders, Dark Lives

When Thanatos opened his eyes, night had fallen, casting Alana's bedchambers into near darkness. The only light came from the two oil lamps on the two bedside tables; the flames flickered and danced within the sooty glass globes, casting distorted shadows on the wall. Alana's black satin coverlet was rumpled, thrown rather haphazardly over himself and Alana.

Alana herself dozed peacefully in his arms. Long, dark lashes rested serenely against her smooth cheeks, which were flushed a pale shade of pink from the passion they'd shared the night before. Her thick, ebony hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders and down her back, while her head rested contentedly on Thanatos's toned, muscular chest. He watched her as she slept, admiring her, his fingers twining into a stray lock of her hair.

Alana's eyes fluttered slightly; she stretched and yawned like a contented cat, baring her fangs as she did.

"Good evening, Alana," the dark-haired necromancer greeted pleasantly. "I trust you slept well?"

"Better than I ever have," she commented approvingly, placing a hand on his muscled chest. "My many thanks."

"No need to thank me," Thanatos assured her suavely. "I enjoyed it as well."

"Good." She stretched once more, then threw back the hastily-strewn covers of her bed, slipping out of bed and heading towards a small room she'd dubbed her closet, once more looking to be the woman on a mission that she always was. He watched her curiously.

"Back to business?" he bantered with a bit of a grin.

"Indeed," Alana called from her closet. "I've called a conference for tonight-a gathering of the covens, if you will. I want to be assured that we have allies for the coming battle…I have no doubt in my mind that Gabriel will desire a fight." She snickered. "After all, he must avenge his beloved Gypsy whore and his pious brat of a sister."

"How many covens are you expecting?" the necromancer questioned curiously.

"I sent messages to the leaders of Romania's five other covens, as well as to three more covens east of Budapest. I'm expecting eight coven leaders to show."

He nodded understandingly, peering over the side of his bed for his clothes. All he found, however, were his boots and Alana's violet dress. Smirking, he rolled over to the other side of the bed, where he found all of his clothes, as well as Alana's boots. "When are they arriving?"

"Within an hour," Alana replied, flinging open her closet door and emerging. She wore a beautiful dress, with a bodice of midnight blue crushed velvet that wrapped snugly around her torso and chest. The gown had no straps; gauzy black sleeves wrapped around her biceps, flowing down to her wrists. The dress also had a flowing skirt of black silk, overlain with the same diaphanous black material that made up the sleeves to Alana's dress. The beautiful dress made her look like a gothic princess; she placed her hands on her hips and grinned at her newfound lover. "What do you think?"

"Breathtaking."

She smiled tenderly. "You're too kind." She snatched her boots and pulled them back on before taking a brush from her dresser and using it to tame her mussed black hair, while Thanatos proceeded to don his usual attire. Fifteen minutes later, both were ready, and they vacated Alana's chambers, heading for the front hall, to greet her guests when they arrived.

There was already a vampire awaiting them in the front hall, a male with rumpled brown hair and piercing brown eyes. Alana greeted him with a smile and a few polite words, and he returned her greeting with a chaste kiss on the back of the hand.

In the space of about half an hour, seven more vampires arrived, bringing the total to eight, just as Alana had expected. She found Thanatos lingering towards the back of the small crowd of vampires, a bit out of his element amongst the undead elite. She approached him, taking his arm and starting to walk off, out of the front hall and back towards the actual manor. The eight other vampires and vampiresses followed suit.

At the end of a long, broad hallway on the first floor, there was a vast set of mahogany double doors. Alana made a sweeping sort of gesture with her hands, and as if the doors were enchanted, they swung wide open. Beyond the doors waited a rather large room, its centerpiece a long, large table. Four chairs swathed in crimson velvet lined each long side of the rectangular table, while a final chair-this one swathed in purple velvet-at the head of the table. The other coven leaders settled quickly in the crimson-draped chairs, leaving Alana and Thanatos standing. He pulled out the violet-draped chair and motioned to it in a gentlemanly fashion. "Please, sit."

Alana smirked. "Looks as though I have myself a gentleman. Thank you, dear Thanatos."

She sat down, weaving her fingers together and placing her hands upon the table. "First order of business…coven leaders, present." She stood. "Alana Tremarie, Drakebane Coven."

As she sat, a beautiful blonde vampiress with icy blue eyes stood. "Livia Tordei, Amarante Coven."

The brown-haired vampire from the front hall rose next. "Sorin Traise, Radescu Coven."

A black haired vampire with a moustache that curled upwards at the ends, wearing an ascot and a beret, stood next, puffing out his chest proudly. "Pierre Jacques de Gaul, Korrinya Coven."

Next was a brunette vampiress who looked no older than fifteen. "Annuska Almássy, Lakatas Coven."

Another vampire, this one with messy, brilliant red hair, rose. "Emilian Ardelean, Inoptre Coven."

A blonde vampire who bore a startling resemblance to Matthias stood. "Alexandru Valtas, Vrainmenn Coven."

A black-haired vampiress with piercing orange eyes rose. "October Katona, Evantes Coven."

The last leader, another brown-haired vampire with eyes black as night, stood. "Tallack Sanna, Syilasn Coven."

Alana's crimson lips curled into a pleased smile. "Good, we're all here. Now that that's been settled, we can get down to business."

"You mentioned Van Helsing when you called us to this meeting," Annuska called out. "He's targeted your coven next, has he not?"

She nodded. "That he has-and merely because I tried to teach him the pain he put me through all those centuries ago." She shook her head. "Some people are such sore losers."

The rest of the leaders nodded, murmuring in assent, and Sorin leaned a bit closer to Alana. "You almost mentioned he may have accomplices."

"He must," she replied. "A while back, someone came and raided my personal library. The thief managed to come in and out without being noticed-clearly, Van Helsing is not working alone this time."

"Perhaps he is working with some kind of shapeshifter!" Pierre declared in his heavy French accent. "That was what caused the downfall of our last leader-he ran afoul of a shapeshifter two months, who impersonated him and slew him in cold blood." An upset look came over his face, though it looked fake, and he removed his beret, placing it over his heart. "By the time I came into his room, he was almost dead. He made me the leader with his dying breath."

"I heard you killed him," October commented flatly.

Pierre looked offended. "I most certainly did not!"

"Then explain why they found you in his room with a bloody rapier."

"I came to defend him!"

"Then why was his blood on the sword?"

Pierre faltered for a second. "I missed the intruder and stabbed our leader on accident!"

A self-satisfied smirk came to October's face. "You're a lying bastard. You killed him, didn't you?"

"How dare you suggest such a thing, silly little ingénue?"

"I'd rather be a silly ingénue than a pretentious lying bag of bones like you."

"This is childish," Thanatos murmured in Alana's ear.

She sighed. "Sadly, this is politics." Frowning, she stood, a glowing orb of psionic energy lighting up her palm. She threw it at Pierre, catching the tip of his ascot and setting the decorative scarf on fire. He yelped when he noticed the small flames, and he quickly whipped it off, beating it against the table to smother the flames.

"Pierre, either shut up or get out, this is serious business," Alana ordered. "October, now's not the time. Can we get back to business now? Need I remind you all that the future of my coven is at stake?!"

October settled back in her seat, politely folding her hands in her lap. Pierre scowled, flopping ungracefully in his chair, his beret pulled low over his face. He took out a long, black cigarette holder, a cigarette already loaded into it, struck a match, lit his cigarette, and began to smoke. Alana scowled, frustrated by the way he was wasting time.

"Better now?"

Pierre nodded. Alana sighed. "Good. Now, back to business. As I stated, the future of my entire coven hangs in a delicate balance. I have no doubt in my mind that Gabriel Van Helsing is not working alone. At the very least, he has that pathetic little friar working with him, and his mutt of a brother-in-law as well."

"Do you think he's building an army?" Tallack asked.

"I have no doubt in my mind," Alana replied. "At the masque a few weeks back, I recall seeing him enter alongside a rather large group of people. It may have been mere happenstance, but I believe these people were members of some kind of army he was trying to build."

Pierre snorted disdainfully, sending a cloud of cigarette smoke into the air. "An army? Pah, no doubt it's nothing more than a ragtag army of sideshow freaks."

"Pierre has a point," Annuska commented. "Knowing Van Helsing, I daresay it's hardly an army worth writing home about."

"Be as that may, I still worry for my coven," Alana told her. "Not every member of every coven lives up to your militant standards, Annuska, and my coven is no exception. Many of the members of Drakebane Coven are socialites, not warriors, much to my eternal dismay and chagrin."

"Sounds as though you need an army," Livia suggested as she tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

"I believe that an army would be a boon," Alana replied, nodding.

"I have already promised to add my followers to Alana's warriors," Thanatos stated, catching the attention of all in the room. "And I intend to fight alongside her myself."

"And who might you be..?" Pierre called down the table, lighting up another cigarette as he spoke.

"I have a few names," the necromancer stated in a mysterious manner. "Many know me as the Reaper of All Souls. You all, however, may call me Thanatos. Thanatos Wakahisa. I am Alana's second-in-command."

_And my newfound lover_, Alana thought to herself. She sent Thanatos a knowing grin, and he responded with a smirk and a surreptitious wink.

"The Reaper of All Souls…I know of you," Alexandru commented softly. "You're that adolescent necromancer that escaped the Russian army, are you not?"

"I am, though I am clearly no longer an adolescent," Thanatos told him calmly.

"Of course not. I've heard the stories-they say you have a rather magnificent skill with the dead and the undead."

"I don't care to brag, but I do have a way with them."

"Hmm," Alexandru mused for a moment. "An army of the best Drakebane warriors and the puppets of the Reaper of All Souls…I shall send my best warriors as well, to aid you in the defeat of Van Helsing."

"As shall I," Annuska agreed. "I'd love to see that self-righteous bastard die already."

One by one, the leaders of the covens offered their best warriors as a part of the Drakebane warriors. Alana grinned, her eyes alight with malice. "Excellent, excellent. I owe all of you my eternal gratitude."

"It's a good investment, you could say," Tallack drawled. "If Van Helsing is dead and gone, then our covens may flourish once more, as they used to."

"What about his sister, Catherine?" Emilian asked curiously.

Alana chuckled darkly. "She's a non-issue. I-along with a little help from Fate, as it would happen-have incapacitated the little brat. She's still alive, but only barely. She's in no shape to fight."

There were several quiet cheers, and Pierre celebrated by lighting up a third cigarette. A servant came into the room, her eyes fixed respectfully on the ground, a tray bearing ten goblets of dark red liquid in her hands. She handed a goblet first to Alana, then to Thanatos, and then went to distribute the glasses to the rest of the table. The necromancer noticed that the crimson beverage in his glass moved more freely than what was in Alana's glass, and silently gleaned that he had-thankfully-been given wine, not blood. Once everyone at the table had received a glass, Alana stood, raising her glass high.

"To Van Helsing's death-so that our covens may live once more!"

The leaders nodded, raising their glasses. "To Van Helsing's death!"

* * *

_As a side note, never mind the fact that Thanatos's first name is Greek and his last name is Japanese, he _is_ Russian. SpeedDemon says so._

Alana: One damn sexy Russian, if you ask me...

_-jumps- Sheesh! Give me a heart attack will you?_

Alana: Would you like me to?

_No. -looks around- Where's everyone else?_

Alana: You know the rule, Rora. If they're not in the chapter, they're not in the author's notes.

_So...it's just you and me._

Alana: Ladies and gentlemen, she can be taught!

_-glowers- Watch it, Alana. Must I remind you, as I constantly have to remind Dante, that I am your creator and you are therefore my bitch?_

Alana: I most certainly am not! And who the hell is Dante?

_One, yes, you are, because I created you and you are therefore at my mercy. Two...yeah, you'll find out later who Dante is._

Alana: Tell me now!

_Nope. You're not supposed to know._

Alana: I will kill you if you don't tell me.

_If I had a quarter for every time you tell me that...anyways, I'll end these author's notes here, and give Alana some better threats to work with. Hope you enjoyed!_

* * *


	19. One More Night to Live?

_**A/N: **Well, as you can see, it hasn't taken me long to update this story, unlike the last few chapters. Well, this time, not only was I well-inspired, but I have a pretty good incentive (which you shall find out all in good time, my dear readers!). Anyways, here's another chapter of Intrusive Dusk for you to enjoy (and yes, this title was inspired by Nightwish's song "Beauty of the Beast: One More Night to Live"). I'd like to thank **GuenVanHelsing**, **Dr. Lust**, and **SpeedDemon315** for their faithful reviews! I don't know what I'd do without you guys!_

_**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anyone from Van Helsing. Stupid Stephan Sommers and his stupid copyrights._

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: One More Night to Live?

"_Herr_ Alexsei?"

Alexsei lifted his gaze from the floor, only to find little Sigrid standing in front of him. Her brilliantly blonde hair was pulled back into a single braid, and she was dressed as though she were going to bed. Alexsei forced a weak smile, trying to hide the despair and sadness he was feeling.

"Hello, Sigrid," he greeted pleasantly. "It's nice to see you. Although, I will admit, it is strange seeing you without your uncle."

"Uncle Egil is outside-I didn't want to disturb him," she explained simply. "How are you, _Herr_ Alexsei?"

"I'm fine," he lied quickly.

Her azure eyes stared at him unblinkingly for a moment. "No, you're not. You're upset-do you miss your wife?"

Alexsei didn't speak for a moment, but he finally found his voice. "Yes," he confessed, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Sigrid, I miss her. And I'm worried about her. She's strong, but…"

He faltered, and when he did, the young shapeshifter stepped forward, hugging him in a comforting way. The werewolf was taken aback by the gesture at first, but he found it consoling, familiar, and after a moment, he hugged her back.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Sigrid smiled, gently stepping back after a moment. "It was no problem, _Herr_ Alexsei. And don't worry-Uncle Egil and _Herr_ Van Helsing and everyone else are going to stop_ Savne_ Alana and then your wife will be safe! I promise!"

Alexsei smiled, this time, a true smile. "Thank you, Sigrid. I know you and everyone else are going to do everything in your power to help me save Catherine. I can't think to thank you enough."

"I hope I get to meet _Savne_ Catherine one day," the young shapeshifter replied. "I've read the stories and heard the folklore about_ Savne_ Catherine becoming a fallen angel. I've always wanted to ask her what it is like."

"Well, once all this is over, I'll have to make sure you get to meet her," Alexsei declared, now decidedly more cheerful than he had been. "I think you and Catherine would get along very well-especially if you want to be a huntress yourself."

Sigrid nodded excitedly. "Uncle Egil's been training me to be a huntress ever since I was little! I've always wanted to be a huntress!" She giggled in a naughty sort of way. "Especially because it makes the Elders angry! They want me to be a proper lady, but being a huntress is more fun!"

Alexsei chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "More alike than I thought. You and Catherine would get along splendidly."

The blonde girl beamed excitedly. "Really? You think so? Thank you, _Herr_ Alexsei!"

"It's the honest truth, Sigrid. In your own ways, you remind me of Catherine. Whenever she gets to meet you, she'll love you."

"Thank you again, _Herr_ Alexsei! I know I'll love _Savne_ Catherine, too!" She hugged Alexsei one more time. "It's getting late-good night!"

He returned her embrace. "Goodnight, Sigrid. Be ready to leave before nightfall tomorrow-Gabriel says he wants us at Drakebane Manor around nightfall."

She nodded, before skipping off towards her room. Alexsei watched her go, comforted by her cheery demeanor and kind words-Sigrid's reassurance that Catherine would survive had, without a doubt, eased the worry he'd felt about his wife's fragile health.

_Her uncle must be very proud of her_, he thought. _She's got a good head on her shoulders._ He gave a small, wistful sigh. _Perhaps one day, Catherine and I may have a daughter like her._

_Perhaps one day. _

***

"Fancy meeting you out here."

Egil looked over his shoulder, startled by the voice behind him (though his stoic expression never wavered) only to find that Kaja stood in the doorway, a knee-length woolen coat that looked several times larger than her draped over her shoulders to protect her from the cold.

"It's Andreas's," she explained, shrugging her slender shoulders before wandering out onto the balcony. She came up beside Egil, leaning against the railing like he was.

"Looks a little big for you."

"Well, aside from the little monk-friar fellow, Carl, Andreas is the smallest male here. It seems to me that all the men here are obscenely tall: Alexsei, Van Helsing, your friend Rolf, yourself…had I borrowed coats from any of you, I may as well have draped myself in a tent."

Egil smirked. "Sounds as though there's no real boon to being short."

"Good for some missions, but otherwise impractical in real life."

The staid shapeshifter almost laughed at her comment; he restrained himself and merely continued to smirk, taking a drink from his tumbler, feeling warmth seep into him as the alcohol warmed his blood. "What brings you out here, anyways?"

"Just needed some time to myself, to think," Kaja explained succinctly. "This has always been a great place to think…"

"Always? So you knew Andreas before we were recruited into all this madness?"

"So you think all this is madness?" the dark-haired vampiress asked.

"It's rather insane, yes."

"Welcome to Romania, then. You'll become accustomed to the insanity the longer you stay."

"Good to know. Now, as I asked earlier, you've known Andreas for a while?"

"Him and Lexa, yes. Lexa's my half-sister, same mother, different father. I've known her since we were children and met Andreas through her."

Egil nodded. "Makes sense."

"Have any brothers or sisters yourself, Egil?"

He sighed. "A sister-Sigrid's mother. She died giving birth to Sigrid, ten years ago."

Her heart going out to him, she placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm sorry-I can't imagine how hard that must be."

Egil turned his head, so he was looking into Kaja's dark eyes, rife with sympathy for him-and something else, too, something deeper inside. Something he hadn't seen in a woman's eyes since the days of Cassandra, and their doomed romance.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Silence fell between them for a long moment; Kaja's hand remained on Egil's arm, while his stormy eyes were locked on her chestnut ones.

"Why did you-as you so aptly put it earlier-allow yourself to be recruited into all this madness?" Kaja asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

"Because I know the costs," he whispered back. "I know what evil can-and will-do to love. Love is a fragile thing, Kaja-and evil can rip it, destroy it without a second thought. When I first met Frankenstein, Alexsei, and Carl, Alexsei told me that the life of the only woman he's ever loved was on the line. I know what it's like to lose someone you love more than life itself. With my situation, there was nothing I could do to prevent what happened. In this case, I can do something to help. Because losing someone who you'd willingly give all that you are to is…it's a fate worse than death." He looked away for a moment, silent, before he fixed his attention on Kaja once more. "And what about you, Kaja? What drives you to do this?"

She sighed, looking away, past the balcony and deep into the woods that surrounded Liakov Manor. "His name was Nathaniel," she stated softly. "I loved him as I had never loved anyone before. We…well, we weren't quite engaged yet, but we were working our way to that, rings don't come cheap, you know. Hell, we had even tried to start a family together-to no avail, unfortunately." She stopped for a moment. "He was killed two years ago, during a slayer's raid on Castle Dracula. I watched him die…I held him in my arms as he slipped away. I could have died, too-I gladly would have placed the barrel of his pistol against my temple and pulled the trigger. But…he wouldn't have wanted that. He gave his life so I could live in a world of peace." She paused for a moment. "Nathaniel died so I could stay safe from psychopaths like Alana. I'm not about to let her compromise that sacrifice."

Once more, silence fell between the shapeshifter and the vampire; after a moment, Egil gently placed an arm around Kaja's shoulders. Much to his surprise (and, deep down, his relief) she did not pull away.

"If it's any consolation, I'm glad you didn't choose suicide. It would be a shame to deprive the world of a woman like you."

"Thank you."

"I speak the truth."

Another long moment of silence came, and then…

"Egil?"

"Yes, Kaja?"

"I…I love you."

He turned his head, so that he was looking at Kaja. Her chestnut eyes gleamed with that emotion he'd seen earlier, the one he had been unable to identify-though now, he knew what it was. A soft smile came to his face.

"I love you too, Kaja."

***

"No…no…oh, hell no…jackpot!"

Rolf poked his head into the room that had been designated as the bar by Andreas, only to find Akyra perched on the wooden bar counter, sorting through bottles of liquor-probably according to personal opinion. He leaned against the doorframe, smirking.

"Find anything good yet?" he asked her.

She smirked, holding up a bottle of liquid that was a vivid emerald. "Absinthe. And a good brand, too, aged a little, not some cheap, nasty brand. Andreas has good taste." She hopped down from the bar, reaching into the array of bottles that was on the counter behind the bar. She produced two shot glasses and a pack of matches. "Care to partake?"

"Why, yes, I do," the drow replied, waltzing over and joining Akyra on the bar. She pushed rejected bottles of various liquid aside to make room for him, then placed the shot glasses on the bar between them, filled them, and struck a match, using it to light the surface of the liquid on fire. Both took a glass up, and Akyra clinked her against Rolf's.

"Cheers," she said with a wiry grin.

Rolf smirked back. "I concur. What are we drinking to, _Frauline_ Akyra?"

"Battle," she suggested casually, smothering the flames on her drink. "Bloodshed. The fact that we're going to kick Alana's ass tomorrow."

"I'll drink to that." Rolf smothered the flames dancing on the surface of his absinthe. Both chugged the potent alcohol down, relishing the burn as it went down.

"Now _that_ is good," he said, placing his glass back on the bar. "What say we do that again, _Frauline_ Akyra?"

"You know, you can just call me Akyra," she told him, uncorking the bottle and refilling the glasses. She paused as she was about to strike a match, smirking at Rolf. "It's going to take a lot more than that to offend me."

"Your wish, my command," he chuckled, taking up his shot glass once the absinthe had been lit. "To us, Akyra, and our fruitful yet strange friendship."

"Not friendship," Akyra contradicted, dousing the flames and throwing back another shot of absinthe. "There's a little more than friendship between us, Rolf. You and I both know that."

"What do you think it is?" Rolf questioned, downing his second shot as well.

"Personally? Could be many things. Attraction…lust…love…"

"Love? Neither of us have souls, Akyra. Aren't we therefore incapable of love?"

"Not necessarily." By now, both the drow and the vampiress had consumed another glass of absinthe, though they'd both stopped lighting it beforehand. "Being soulless for the both of us just means we get to have more fun-we can do naughty things and not feel guilty about them." She polished off another glass. "Well, at least I can, I don't know what being soulless did to your guilt complex."

"Naughty things, you say?" Rolf grinned wolfishly at her. "Such as-?"

"Oh, I think I know where you're going with this…"

He didn't say anything, only leaned in and kissed her. She didn't even hesitate, she only kissed him back. It was a bit sloppy, with both of them mildly intoxicated, but none the less passionate and heated.

"Do you mind where it's going?" Rolf whispered huskily between kisses.

"Not at all," she replied. "In fact…" She trailed off, breaking the kiss and sliding off the bar, so she was behind it. A wicked gleam danced in her viridian eyes. "C'mere, you."

He grinned. "Your wish, my command."

***

Alexandra sat alone, in the Liakov armory, lovingly running a tattered cloth up and down the blade of a sleek, beautiful rapier. Given to her when she was nine, the finely honed blade had been a prized weapon-and dead useful as well-for as long as she could remember. The polished steel gleamed brilliantly as she wiped it clean of dirt and grime.

"That's a beautiful sword you have there, Chandara," a male voice complimented. Looking up, she found Carl wandering into the armory, holding a large, modified crossbow-Van Helsing's crossbow.

She smiled to him. "Thank you, Carl. Sirius gave it to me, when I was nine. It's served me faithfully ever since."

Tossing the cloth aside, she carefully sheathed her sword and reattached the sword and scabbard to her sword belt. Carl watched her graceful, fluid movements with what could be considered a bit of envy, then looked up at her. "Chandara, why do you think Sirius chose you?"

"To this day, I'm not sure," she replied. "It might be because I was the granddaughter of one of Romania's most powerful lords. I mean, that would also explain why Uncle Alexsei was chosen-the fact that he's not only the son of one of Romania's most powerful lords, but he's the first son, the only son, and therefore the heir to everything my grandfather had. But it may have been something else. Don't suppose we'll ever know, now that Sirius is dead."

"I'm sorry-I know he was your father," Carl apologized.

"Don't be sorry-he wasn't my father," Alexandra insisted. "My father, Tuomas Lupei, died when I was five, before I could even remember him. He died by Sirius's hand-just like my mother, my grandfather, and my grandmother."

"Do you…do you hate him for what he did?"

She sighed. "No, not really. I can't exactly hate him for what he did because I don't remember any of it-I only have little snippets of memories of my parents, same with my grandparents. I didn't even remember my own name after I was bitten. But…there's the fact that he lied to me for three hundred years. That fact, I'm rather disgusted about…but I don't hate him."

"What about Alexsei? Does he hate Sirius for what happened?"

"No-he doesn't really hate anyone. I mean, I know he's none too pleased with Sirius for killing his entire family, and he wasn't too happy with Sirius hunting him and Aunt Catherine down, but he doesn't hate him."

Carl looked fairly impressed. "That's amazing-you and your uncle have the compassion and forgiveness of saints."

She gave a short, almost bitter laugh. "Uncle, maybe, but oh, if only you knew the half of me. I'm no saint, Carl-I can't always forgive."

Carl smiled. "You're still a good person, though-why do you think I fell in love…with…" He trailed off, all the ruddy color draining from his face. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Alexandra remained silent for a long moment, then slid off the table, standing before Carl. They both were nearly the same height, so Carl found himself staring directly into her intense brown eyes.

"Carl…you love me?"

The embarrassed friar looked away, his face a deep vermillion color. "W-Well, I…you s-see, Chandara…it's l-like this-"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence, as Alexandra suddenly threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to his. Shocked, Carl froze; her lips were soft and warm against his, the kiss sweet and pure. After a moment, she broke the kiss, entwining her hands with Carl's. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and there was love glimmering in her chocolate-colored eyes.

"I love you, Carl," she whispered to him. "But I need to know…do you feel how I feel? Do you love me back?"

The timid friar hesitated for the longest time, and the hopeful look on Alexandra's face began to falter. After a long moment, a warm smile came to his face, and her wilting expression brightened once more.

"I do, Chandara. I do love you."

"Alexandra," she corrected.

"Alexandra?"

"You can call me by my real name, Carl. I…I think it's time I leave Chandara Luna de Autechane in the past, where she belongs, and face the world as Alexandra Claire Dunkirk, the woman I was meant to be."

Carl nodded. "All right, Alexandra." He gave a small, delighted sort of shudder. "That's a very nice name, you know? Alexandra? It becomes you."

The blonde werewolf smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from Carl's face. "Well then if it's Alexandra you want, and Alexandra you love, then it's Alexandra you'll have."

***

It was dark, the air so still Van Helsing swore he could feel the air moving around him. He stared intently out the window, his mind working furiously. He'd never led an army before. He'd never taken on a coven of vampires. And he'd never gone head-to-head with someone who had so much of a personal vendetta against him.

Not even Dracula.

Absently, he turned Catherine's cross over in his hands. He'd found it in one of the books Egil had brought back from Alana's manor-he couldn't help but wonder if it had been an accident that he'd gotten her cross back, or if God was trying to tell him something.

_Not that I'm complaining, _he thought._ I'm sure Catherine will want it back._

_I just hope I'm not putting it around a corpse's neck…_

He closed his eyes, sighing, trying and failing to shove back the images of Catherine lying in a coffin, her hands folded on her chest in a customary funeral position, clasping a rose to her bosom, her skin pale and cold as death. It was an admittedly terrifying image to Van Helsing; he opened his eyes again quickly, hoping to make the image go away as he stared at the window, this time not seeing what was beyond the glass, but seeing the glass itself. At first, he only saw his own reflection in the window, half-lit by the moon, his visage thoughtful and apprehensive. But then, Catherine's face appeared on the glass, looking just as it had been the last time he'd seen her, at the Vatican: Pained, horrified, her eyes begging for a savior. He saw Alexsei, tears trickling down his face, his expression heartbroken as he learned his wife was dying. He saw Gabrielle, the hopelessness in her eyes, that resolve he'd always seen in her fading throughout this entire situation.

Van Helsing's fists clenched when he thought of what Gabriella had been forced to endure. He knew she deserved none of it, none of Alana's wrath. And yet, she'd gotten it anyways; she had taken the theoretical bullet for him, was rotting away in a dungeon cell because of him. A sudden burst of anger towards Alana, and a sense of protectiveness over Gabrielle, strengthened his resolve. The apprehension on his face vanished.

"Tomorrow," he whispered. "Alana, you best be ready for a battle. I won't let Catherine and Gabrielle suffer at your hands anymore."

* * *

_Awww! Lots and lots of love in this chapter!_

Van Helsing: Well, when you've possibly only got one more night to live, what better to do than to tell someone you love them?

_Good point._

Alexsei: I concur.

_And Alexsei, I had no idea you were so fatherly!_

Alexsei: _-blushes slightly-_ Well, for the most part, I raised Alexandra because I didn't trust Sirius with her. Especially not when she was young.

_That's my sweet protective werewolf squishy -rubs his head-_

Alexsei: ...I thought I told you never to call me werewolf squishy.

_Since when do I listen?_

Van Helsing: You **_don't_**. At least not to us.

_Bingo._

Van Helsing: _-sighs-_ So, anything you want to leave us with? Songs, poems, contests, anything?

_...Nope, not that I can think of._

Alexsei: So we're simply saying good-bye?

_-nods- Yes, we are...well, readers, Alexsei, Gabriel, and I are going to leave you here! I hope you enjoyed!_


	20. And So It Begins

_**A/N: **Yes, I know, this was quick, wasn't it? What can I say, I had some serious motivation for this chapter (Speed knows what I'm talking about and everyone else is about to find out!) So before we start, I'd like to thank **SpeedDemon315**, **Dr. Lust**, and **GuenVanHelsing** for the reviews! I don't know what I'd do without you guys!_

_**Disclaimer:** I STILL don't own Van Helsing because Stephan Sommers is a greedy bastard._

* * *

Chapter Twenty: And So It Begins

Gabrielle opened her eyes, sticky with sleep, finding herself greeted by the same dismal setting of Alana's dungeon. Nothing had changed, but then again, she hadn't expected anything to change. She'd been trapped in Alana's dungeon for nearly a month now, and her faith in her husband, much to her dismay, was fading.

"I can't give up hope," she whispered. "Gabriel said he would come for me…"

"Fine job of that he's doing so far," Matthias commented smarmily, strolling up to the bars of the cell. "Because you're still here, Princess." He leered at her. "You're all mine…"

"I'm not some prize to be won, you prick," she snarled, getting to her feet. She approached Matthias, stumbling because of the thick length of chain binding her ankles. "Gabriel's going to come for me, and when gets his hands on you…" A wicked beam curled over her pale, chapped lips. "He's going to rip you a new one the likes of which you've never felt."

"Oh, I'm trembling in my boots," the vampire guard sneered, pretending to shake.

"You should be. Gabriel's not going to show you any mercy. He knows what you've done to me. You're a dead man when he gets his hands on you."

"Listen up, Princess, here's a little something you should know-by the time your precious Gabriel makes it past the army of vampires at the front gate, and all the vampires lurking all over this manor-especially the ones guarding the entrance to the dungeon-he'll be dead!"

"You're wrong!" she yelled. As she yelled, faintly, a roar sounded out. It was followed after by more roars, loud roars, as if a pack of werewolves was right outside the manor. Matthias's brow furrowed.

"Sounds like trouble," he murmured. "Unless Alana perhaps was expecting them."

Another roar sounded out, but this time, it was closer, as if the werewolf were inside the dungeons. Matthias looked around in shock. "What in Lucifer's name-?"

Both vampires heard the sounds of feet-or paws?-pounding against the stone floors, and Gabrielle peered past the bars of her cell, finding two pairs of eyes burning yellow in the gloom. Not a heartbeat later, a large, sable-furred werewolf lunged at Matthias, taking him down. Another werewolf, slightly smaller and with flaxen fur, followed after.

Not to be outdone, the vampire guard erupted into his demonic hell-bat form, shrieking harshly at the werewolves. The sable wolf growled, his hackles rising, while the blonde circled him, pouncing from behind. Matthias grabbed her by the neck, ripping her from his back. The blonde werewolf whimpered as she was slammed against the unforgiving stone wall. The sable werewolf snarled and roared like a savage beast, taking a swipe at Matthias. Five long, jagged gashes appeared in the vampire's flesh, and black blood gushed forth. While Matthias raked at the dark werewolf's fur with his claws, the flaxen werewolf recovered, snuck up behind the vampiric guard, and closed her jaws around his neck. There was a crack, and Matthias's eyes bulged. A broken neck wasn't quite fatal to a vampire, but it was something that rendered him defenseless, his body useless as he tried to heal.

A dark shape, human this time, exploded from the shadows, a stake in one hand and a revolver in the other. He raised the revolver first, and a loud report rang out. The man had fired, striking Matthias in the chest. The vampire crumpled to the floor, pain flashing on his face and flickering in his eyes. No doubt, the bullet had been silver and was now scorching and searing inside his chest.

The man stepped forward, hate and repulsion etched into his very familiar face. He shot Matthias four times-once in the head, once in the chest, and, last but not least, twice between his legs. A self-satisfied smirk came to his face.

"Serves you right," he growled at the corpse, before turning to face Gabrielle. A smile came over her weary face when she saw who it was that had come to her rescue.

"Gabriel!"

***

Despite his power over the dead and his achieved immortality, Thanatos was, in all actuality, still only human. However, he didn't need preternatural hearing, as Alana and her vampiric coven possessed, to hear the growls and snarls of werewolves coming from outside. They were loud enough to wake the dead without his help.

Vacating the library, he went off in search of Alana, to ask her if the wolves were supposed to be at her door, or if there was a possibility Drakebane Manor was under attack. He passed what he believed to be a vacant chamber, and as he did, Magna, his archaic seer, witch, and all-around healer, shuffled out, coming up behind the necromancer. When he sensed her presence behind him, he stopped and turned to face her, eyeing her with detachment.

"What is it, Magna?"

"Master, I felt it," the old woman croaked. "I felt the tugging of a new life!"

Thanatos cocked a black brow at her. Shortly after he had resurrected her, Magna had exhibited an odd, though quite useful, power: An ability to detect the entering and departure of life. She knew when a woman had taken with child, and she could tell when a person was lingering at Death's door.

"Really, now?" Thanatos asked. "Pray tell, Magna, who is it?"

A sly grin came over her wrinkled, withered face. "A vampire in this house, Master."

The dark-haired necromancer blinked, unimpressed and, inwardly, mildly frustrated. _So Magna wishes to play a guessing game with me._ He sighed inwardly. _I suppose I can humor her for a short while._ "That hardly narrows it down, Magna. This is, after all, a coven of _vampires._"

"She has magical capabilities as well."

"As do most vampires here. Alana has said that only the lowest of the servants here do not have magical prowess. Another hint."

"She is a very powerful vampire-among the top of Alana's coven."

"There are few females among Alana's elite," Thanatos mused, frustration starting to seep into his tone. He turned his piercing viridian gaze to the old crone. "Enough games, Magna. Tell me who is with child." For a moment, the old woman said nothing, and he glared coldly at her. "That was _not_ a request."

"Patience, Master, I was about to tell you." A placid expression came to her face. "Alana."

Thanatos's heart stopped short for a second as a wave of shock coursed through him. A moment of silence passed as he struggled to comprehend what Magna had just said-she couldn't possibly be serious, could she?

"What did you just say?" he asked softly.

"I said that the tug of life I felt came from within Alana," she stated calmly.

"So you're saying Alana is…is _pregnant?_"

Magna nodded. "Yes, Master."

"You cannot possibly be serious."

"I am, Master. Serious as the plague."

Thanatos turned away from Magna, swearing softly in Russian out of his immense surprise. "My God," he whispered, starting to pace back and forth. "Alana is pregnant…I'm going to be a father…I can't believe this…" He turned to face his archaic seer; she swore she saw a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "I'm going to be a father."

"There's more, Master."

"More?"

She nodded. "Indeed, more. I didn't sense merely one tug of life, Master-I sensed _two."_

Thanatos cursed in his native tongue again, this time a little louder. "Twins?!" He looked around, his expression torn between excitement and shock, with some disbelief thrown in. "I must find Alana…she has to know!" He started off down the hall, looking for his love. _Twins-Alana and I are going to have twins. She's going to be quite surprised when she hears-she's going to have to be careful from now on. I won't have Alana or our children being harmed by a cad such as Van Helsing. _A frown suddenly came over his face._ I have never been a father before…I can only hope I will be a good father to those two children within Alana._

He moved briskly through the halls, searching for his love, calling her name softly, and yet, she appeared to be nowhere in sight. However, as he moved his way past a set of vast double doors, he heard noises from within, noises of metal against metal and half-shouted sentences. He paused, listening to the cacophony, when he heard a familiar voice over it all, loud and clear as a bell.

"Quickly! Mobilize fast-do you want them breaking down our doors before we're properly prepared? Faster!" Alana ordered, her voice filled with a commanding tone that would have brought proud tears to the eyes of history's greatest generals. Thanatos pushed open the double doors, eager to find Alana and tell her what Magna had told him.

He found himself in an armory, a vast one, practically every visible surface in the room covered with weaponry. Alana's warriors, as well as warriors sent by the eight other coven leaders, were running about the armory in a helter-skelter manner, half-dressed in armor, arms loaded with various weapons. They hurried about, trying to organize themselves into an army of skilled soldiers, shouting at each other and shoving harshly.

In the midst of the chaos, there was Alana. She moved gracefully through the disorganized fighters; her customary purple gown had been swapped out for what appeared to be a dress composed of silvery, tightly-interlinked chainmail, with a snug black corset over it. Two black weapon belts adorned her form; one draped over one shoulder, crossing her body to her opposite hip, while the other encircled her svelte waist. A sword's scabbard was attached to the belt at her waist, as were two intricate daggers. Both had long, brilliantly-polished blades; one sported a black hilt encrusted in blood-red rubies, while the other had a dazzling silver hilt encrusted with beautiful sapphires. A third dagger was strapped to the weapon belt across her torso, this one with a black hilt, inlaid with amethysts, and a lethal serpentine blade.

Thanatos smiled as he approached her. "Nice daggers."

Despite the angry and determined expression on her face, she smirked. "The coven's three finest daggers-the Lamian, Lilian, and Alanian Daggers. Only the coven leader is allowed to wield them."

"Lamian, Lilian, and Alanian?"

"Named for the respective leaders, Lamia-" She touched the ruby-inlaid dagger lightly. "-Lilith-" She touched the sapphire-inlaid dagger. "-And myself." She touched the dagger strapped to her chest. "If Nickelia should ever ascend to the position of leader, a dagger will be fashioned in her honor as well."

Thanatos, unable to resist himself, grinned to Alana as he ran a finger down the length of the Alanian Dagger. "My little warrior," he purred velvetly. After a moment, a small voice in the back of his mind spoke up. _Now is not the time, Thanatos. Recall what Magna told you-you must tell Alana. She cannot go into battle-she'll be risking her life! She'll be risking the lives of the twins! Stop her! _

"Alana, I must tell you something-this is imperative. It _cannot_ wait."

Her brow furrowed. "What is it? Is something wrong, Thanatos?"

The dark-haired necromancer opened his mouth to reveal that she was pregnant, but as he did, Nickelia came charging up. She wore a corset of tough black leather, like her mother, but wore no chain mail. She only wore her usual red dress.

"Mother, Mother!" she cried out. "Clarissa, the succubus, went down to the dungeon and found Matthias dead and Gabrielle's cell unlocked! Some of that bastard Van Helsing's friends made it in and released her!"

Alana's eyes flashed dangerously ice-blue. "It looks as though it's to be war…" She turned her attention to the warriors, who had gathered around to hear what Nickelia had to say. "Move out! Send Van Helsing and his little friends to Hell, where they belong!"

Cheers and battle cries poured from the mouths of all the vampires, and they stormed out of the armory, towards the door. Thanatos sighed inwardly, knowing that his news for Alana was going to have to wait.

"I'll go down to the dungeons and see what I can do about Matthias," he offered, as Alana prepared to leave the armory. "Can't have you fighting a battle without your best guard as your extra eyes and ears."

She nodded, running a cool hand down his cheek. "Don't fret, my love-we won't lose."

With that said, she kissed him, a quick kiss, but with all the tenderness and passion she'd give if they had all the time in the world. After a moment, she broke the kiss, and after a long moment of simply staring into his viridian eyes, she hurried out the doors, straight towards the thicket of the battle.

"And so, it begins," the arcane necromancer murmured to himself.

* * *

Van Helsing: What the hell, Rora?!

_What the hell what, Gabriel? And stop shouting, I'm right here._

Van Helsing: She's pregnant? With TWO little hellspawns?!

Alana: _-chucks a book at Van Helsing-_ They're not hellspawns, they're my children!

Alexsei: Wait, how does she even know? Thanatos never told her...

Alana: _-sighs-_ I sat here the entire time Aurora wrote this chapter. I read it over her shoulder.

_It's true, guys, she did. She kept bugging me to let her read it..._

Van Helsing: So how come she got to find out and we didn't until now?

_-shrugs- She asked. You didn't._

Alexsei: She's right...

Van Helsing: Damn.

_Well, mwahahaha I'm going to leave you all with that nice little surprise! I hope you enjoyed, and please review! Reviews make a happy Rora! And a happy Rora works faster (wink wink nudge nudge)._

* * *


	21. Let the Monster Rise

_**A/N: **Well, it took a little while, unlike the last chapter, but, at long last, here's chapter 21! I'd like to thank** SpeedDemon315**, **Dr. Lust**, and **GuenVanHelsing** for the reviews!_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Van Helsing...still. Damn you Stephen Sommers._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: Let the Monster Rise

"Gabriel, not that this isn't a sweet gesture, but I can walk," Gabrielle insisted gently, as Van Helsing carried her out of the dungeons. Alexsei and Alexandra, both still in their wolf-skins, followed closely after, eyes darting warily for signs of the guards. Outside, roars, shrieks, and the sounds of combat informed them that Adolpha's pack had indeed come through for them.

"I know," he said quietly, peering around a corner. "When was the last time you fed, Gabrielle?"

"It's certainly been a while," she admitted. Her stomach growled loudly, as if to corroborate her story.

"Figured as much-no doubt, your body's exhausted without blood." Before she knew what was happening, Van Helsing had tugged off one black leather glove, shrugged back the sleeve of his thick duster, and placed his wrist under Gabrielle's face. She spotted the flicker of a vein pulsing beneath the surface; she knew blood was pumping strong and steady through those veins. She licked her lips, close to pouncing and sinking her teeth into his wrist whether he liked it or not, but she held herself back.

"I can't," she protested.

"Yes, you can," the hunter replied firmly.

"Gabriel…I can't. Not from you. It wouldn't be right." She happened to look up, only to find Van Helsing's hazel eyes boring down into her own. Many emotions were whirring frantically through his eyes, but the one that caught her attention-and caught her off guard-the most was what appeared to be desperation in those striking orbs.

"Please-you must," he insisted. "If you want to get out of here alive, you need strength. My blood can give you strength."

After a moment's more hesitation, she finally conceded, drawing his wrist to her. She gently brushed her lips against the pulsating vein, feeling her fangs prod her bottom lip.

"I'll be gentle," she promised in a whisper, before opening her mouth and breaking the skin, sinking her teeth into her husband's wrist.

The taste of warm, fresh blood exploded upon her tongue. She hadn't sampled human blood in nearly two decades, and never had it tasted as sweet as Van Helsing's. And it wasn't just the fact that she was so thirsty she'd been contemplating drinking her own blood that made his blood so ambrosial-she knew the fact that he was the incarnation of the Archangel Gabriel that added to its sweetness.

She was careful to only take a little-she knew they couldn't afford to have Van Helsing weakened because she was hungry. He looked down at her, a soft, loving look in his eyes, and she offered a small smile in return.

"Thank you."

The hunter opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly, something slammed into him from behind, pitching him forward as he was knocked off his feet. Both he and Gabrielle ended up tumbling across the floor; Alexsei bounded over and helped them both to their feet, while Alexandra stood, her attention fixed on something…or someone. Her hackles were raised, and her sharp teeth were bared in a snarl.

A cruel chuckle greeted the blonde werewolf's growls. Following Alexandra's gaze, Van Helsing found a young, brunette woman clad in a red dress and black corset stood between him and the path to the front door of the manor. The bloody sword she brandished and the bat wings crowned with demonic pinions that fanned out behind her back only added to her intimidating appearance.

"Hello, Mr. Van Helsing," Nickelia purred wickedly.

***

With a savage, feral roar, a large Arctic wolf launched itself at a vampire guard, aiming for his neck, which had been left unprotected by the gap between his helm and breastplate. Just a fraction of a second too slow, the guard was helpless to resist as the wolf bit fiercely into his neck, tearing out his throat.

Once he was sure the guard was dead, the wolf morphed back to his original form, revealing himself to be Egil. "These bastards just keep crawling out of everywhere!"

"Tell me about it!" Rolf hollered back, blowing one guard's head clean off with a blast of drow sorcery. Grinning, he turned to Akyra. "Twenty-one, my dear! Might want to pick up the pace a little!"

"I'll show you picking up the pace!" she called back, ramming her hand straight through a guard's armor, into his chest. A moment later, she yanked his heart out of his chest, displaying the still-pulsating organ like a trophy. "Beat that!"

"Are you two seriously having a vampire-killing contest?" Egil asked, unable to fight the smirk coming to his lips.

"You bet your arse, Tiny!" Lexa cried out as she ran past, brandishing twin pistols, both with smoking barrels. "You should join in the festivities! It's loads of fun!"

"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it, Ginger!" he replied, shifting back into a wolf and going for more guards. "Where's Sigrid?"

"Over here, Uncle!" she yelled. Looking around the battlegrounds, which were now littered with vampire corpses, the Norwegian shapeshifter found that she had tag-teamed with Frankenstein and together, they had trapped a vampire guard. Sigrid was viciously pummeling him with swift karate kicks and punches, while Frankenstein held the guard, ensuring that he couldn't run.

"And Kaja?"

"Up here, Egil!" Looking up, he found Kaja in full-out hell-beast form, locked in a struggle with several other vampires. One struck her across the face, and she responded by grabbing its wing, her sharp nails tearing the delicate wing membrane. The vampire shrieked, and, gripping its wing, she hurtled it to the ground. While the other undead guards went to aid their fellow vampire, Kaja touched down next to Egil.

"Impressive," he complimented.

"Thank you." She scratched gently behind his ear. "You look pretty impressive yourself."

"I try-"

A piercing, ear-abusing screech cut Egil off, booming through the clearing. Everyone clasped their hands over their ears, and the shapeshifter gave a very wolfish whimper, lying down and burying his head under his paws as the supersonic shriek abused his highly sensitive eardrums even worse.

"What is that awful noise?" Frankenstein asked.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, make it bloody stop!" Lexa yelled out. Andreas, Edward, and Adolpha, all in their wolf-skin, yipped and yelped in agreement.

The shriek vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, but no sooner had it vanished than did the ground begin to shake violently, as if an earthquake had suddenly appeared.

"This is not natural!" Egil bellowed, struggling to stay on his feet. Several guards tumbled as the earth shook, as did a few werewolves recruited from the remains of the de Autechane pack.

"Alana's causing it, I'll bet you anything!" Rolf told him. "Drows have spells to create earthquakes, why not humans?!"

"So what do we do now?" Frankenstein asked, unbalanced on the shaky ground.

"We fight!" Akyra, Lexa, and Egil yelled at the same time.

***

Wallboard cracked and bits of dust and plaster rained from the ceiling as Van Helsing was thrown into another wall. He tried to force himself back to his feet, wiping at the blood from a cut on his cheek; his body ached and his head pounded from his last collision with the wall.

Nickelia was standing over him in an instant, eyes blazing red in fury. "So this is the great Van Helsing?" she sneered. "He's supposed to be a fighter, a hero! I'm supposed to be up against a powerful warrior, and instead, what am I facing?" She spat in his direction. "I'm facing a _coward._"

But it wasn't cowardice that had prevented Van Helsing from fighting Nickelia. It was that he knew that the bloodthirsty woman standing over him was not the villain, not the root of all this madness and evil.

That root was Alana.

The furious hybrid delivered a brutal kick to his ribs. "Get up! Fight me, kill me! Fight me like a man!"

"Gabriel, don't!" Gabrielle cried. She, along with Alexsei and Alexandra, stood on the "sidelines", watching the one-sided battle. The hunter had insisted that she not being involved in the fight-that it be left to be just between him and Nickelia. "Gabriel, please, don't hurt her-please, don't kill our daughter…"

"_SILENCE, YOU LITTLE GYPSY HARLOT!_" she hollered, baring her needle-like fangs. "My God, I should have killed you the first moment I had available to me!"

A long silence greeted Nickelia's enraged shouts; within his being, Van Helsing's blood began to boil. Enchanted or not, adopted daughter or not, he was not going to stand by and listen to someone shout at his wife in such a manner, insult her so. Before he knew what had happened, he was on his feet, his hand making contact with Nickelia's head. Caught off-guard by his unexpected blow, she stumbled and fell, knocking her head against the stone floor. Her eyes rolled back into her head as the blow to her skull propelled her into a state on unconsciousness. The hunter's fiery temper began to cool almost instantly.

"I'm not sure that was the best idea," Gabrielle mused aloud, creeping towards the unconscious hybrid.

"No, but I certainly feel better."

A small smile came to her face. "I love you, but we need to work on your temper."

"Clearly." He moved to his wife's side, looking down at Nickelia's unconscious form. Asleep, she looked peaceful, innocent-the kind of girl she probably was deep inside, under all the insanity Alana had planted in her mind.

"What do we do now?" Gabrielle asked, looking up at him.

He didn't answer at first, only continued to stare at Nickelia. After a long, silent moment, an idea formed in his mind, a rather crazy one, but, if he and everyone else played their cards right, one that could work and get them all out alive.

"Bind her hands behind her back and gag her-but gently," he commanded Gabrielle, Alexsei, and Alexandra. "I have an idea."

* * *

Van Helsing: Yes, indeed, I have an idea. It's all up here *taps head*

Alana: Hmm, that sounds really reassuring.

Van Helsing: Shut up, you old bat! I do have an idea!

Alana: Then why not tell everyone!

Van Helsing: It's my idea, it's for me to know and you to find out!

Alana: Which is code for "I have no clue what the bloody hell I'm doing!"

_Children, children! Geez, I swear, having you two as muses is like babysitting two three-year-olds._

Van Helsing: Sorry, Aurora

Alana: *under breath* Whipped...

_*facepalm* God, you two are cantankerous tonight. You're almost worse than the plot orcas...well, I'll leave you readers for now, however, I do have a song to leave you with, one that actually inspired this chapter, a little! Enjoy the lyrics!_

_**Let the Monster Rise**  
Anthony Stuart Head (feat. Alexa Vega)-From **Repo! The Genetic Opera**_

_Nathan:  
_Didn't I tell you not to go out  
Didn't I?

_Shilo:_  
You did, you did

_Nathan:_  
Didn't I say the world was cruel  
Didn't I?

_Shilo:  
_You did, you did

_Nathan:_  
Then tell me how this happened  
What I did wrong  
Tell me why  
Can we just go home, Shi  
And forget this dreadful night?

_Shilo:  
_Didn't you say that you were different  
Didn't you?

_Nathan:  
_I am, I am

_Shilo:_  
Say you aren't that person  
Say it

_Nathan:_  
I am, I am

_Shilo:_  
Then tell me how to act, Dad  
What to say, Dad  
Tell me why  
All you ever told me  
Every word is a lie

Didn't you say that you'd protect me  
Didn't you?

_Nathan:_  
I tried, I tried!

_Shilo:_  
Is that how you'd help me  
Is it?

_Nathan:  
_I tried, I tried!

_Shilo:_  
Don't help me any more Dad  
You are dead, Dad  
In my eyes  
Someone has replaced you  
Dad, I hate you  
Go and die!

_Nathan:_  
Didn't I build a house, a home  
Didn't I?

_Echo:  
He did, he did_

_Nathan:  
_Didn't I raise her all alone  
Didn't I?

_Echo:  
He did, he did_

_Nathan:_  
Then Rotti took her from me  
Stole my Shilo  
He's to blame  
Have I failed my daughter?  
Then let the father die!  
And let the monster rise!


	22. The Meaning of Pain

_**A/N: **Hello, all! Thanks to the inspiration I had for this chapter, it was out in no time! I'd like to thank **SpeedDemon315** and **Dr. Lust** for their wonderful reviews!_

_**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Van Helsing-I swear I will one day! I WILL!!!!!! Mwahahahahaha!_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Meaning of Pain

Thanks to the thick and rather luxurious carpet that blanketed the floors of Drakebane Manor, Carl's footsteps were muffled as he hurried through the hallways. His blue eyes darted about nervously, making sure he wasn't being followed or about to be caught by any members of the Drakebane Coven-or worse, Alana herself.

Why Van Helsing sent me to do this, I'm not quite sure, he thought. A little complacent smirk then came to his face. Ah, yes-because I know what an athame is. Because I know how to recognize a silver-bladed one. And because I know Alana has one, presumably in her office, where it would be safe. And how do I know all this? I read. I tell him time and time again…

In addition to performing routine maintenance on Van Helsing's crossbow and confessing his love for Alexandra the previous night, Carl had finished up a little research he'd been conducting on the side. Through his research, he had come to learn three things: One, vampires like Alana were best killed by a silver athame, which would poison their vampiric side and destroy their magical side simultaneously. Two, silver athames were hard to come by. And three, there was one at Drakebane Manor, an ancient one, purchased by none other than Lamia Arcanhae, founder of the Drakebane Coven.

Which was _exactly _what Carl was searching for now.

On the third floor of the vast manor, he spotted a door that had been left slightly ajar. Peering inside, he found a splendidly-decorated office, adorned with rich drapes and bookcases of beautifully-polished exotic wood. Behind a large desk of carved mahogany hung a portrait of Alana, decked out in a dress of silvery chainmail and a black corset, bearing some bizarre weapon in her hands. The weapon was a nasty-looking one, consisting of a large, somewhat square blade that curved out to a point in one corner and a long handle that appeared to be comprised of bones, topped with a fanged skull. It appeared to be a modified-and rather scary and gruesome-version of a pole ax. Carl shuddered at the thought of facing a weapon such as that, particularly if wielded by a furious Alana.

Taking his eyes off the portrait, Carl proceeded to search the room, looking for the silver athame. He removed every book from the bookcase, opening them and rifling through the pages, looking for possible hollowed-out books, secret compartments in which to hide the precious blade. He poked behind drapes, scoured in corners, and looked behind wall hangings, but to no avail.

Finally, he came to the desk. Looking around and listening for the sound of footsteps in the hall, he made sure Alana wasn't coming his way before digging through the drawers with unparalleled zeal.

The first three drawers he searched yielded no prizes, merely official-looking documents, spare parchment, extra raven-feather quills, bottles of ink, both empty and full, and what appeared to be a romance novel or two. But, as Carl was blindly feeling around the corners of the fourth drawer, his fingers closed on what felt like the hilt of a dagger. He lifted the blade from the drawer, inspecting it in the low light of Alana's office. The blade gleamed with the characteristic glint of silver, while the construction in general was the spitting image to that of an athame. A broad grin split Carl's face.

"Found it!" he hissed triumphantly, placing it into a pouch at his waist. He closed the open drawers of Alana's desk and began to get back up.

Out of nowhere, something solid and heavy collided with the back of his skull. Black stars danced before his eyes; he toppled forward, onto the floor. As he fell, he upset a full bottle of ink; the black liquid splattered everywhere, on papers, on the wall, and on Carl, staining his robes. Still reeling from the punishing blow to his head, the friar rolled onto his back. As soon as he did, he felt the cool bite of steel against his neck. Much to his horror, he found himself staring down the length of the same modified pole ax in the portrait above the desk, wielded by the same person wielding it in the portrait.

"Well, well, would you look at this? Seems I have a pest problem," Alana drawled, n insane grin on her features. "I suppose I should nip this in the bud, but-" She pressed the blade in deeper, nicking Carl's skin. He could feel beads of warm blood trickling down his neck like sweat.

"-I have other plans, much more entertaining plans."

***

"Are you sure this will work, Gabriel?" Gabrielle asked as they wandered deeper through the halls of the massive estate.

"Relatively sure," he answered. "If we use Nickelia as the bait, we can distract her and get someone to stab her through the heart."

"What if she doesn't die? She's not a normal vampire, after all…"

"Carl already figured that out-matter of fact, he's attending to that right now."

She nodded, before looking at Nickelia, who was cradled in Alexsei's arms, still unconscious. A sigh escaped her. "I can't help but feel as though this is so wrong, using our daughter as bait-adopted or not."

"That's because it is wrong," the hunter replied, beginning to lead them up a spiral staircase. "But Alana's been baiting us both with Nickelia for over a month-it's time we give her a taste of her own bloody medicine."

"All right, I like the sound of that."

The small party reached the top of the staircase, facing an empty hallway, long, but relatively wide. At the other end of the hallway was another flight of stairs, leading to God knew where.

"Let's keep moving-we're bound to run into Carl soon…"

"You think so?" Alana's voice hissed, sounding close, but it echoed in a peculiar way, making it impossible to tell where she was. Van Helsing's eyes narrowed.

"Enough mind games, Alana," he growled. "Come out here and fight me like a civilized person-or is that below you?"

"That hurts, Gabriel. Hurts me deep." A grey-and-black blur flashed before them as Alana dropped gracefully from the ceiling. She flashed them a cold smile with all the venom of a cobra poised to strike. "Of course, I'm used to being hurt by you, Gabriel. Why should this be any different?"

"Shut up!" Gabrielle snarled. "You've been whining and moaning about being 'abandoned' ever since I got here! I'm starting to see why Gabriel supposedly never came to find you-you can't ever let go of a bloody grudge! It's been over two and a half centuries! Don't you think it's time to move on yet?"

Her face contorting in fury, Alana thrust her hand forward. As she did, Gabrielle was suddenly flung backwards, slammed against a wall. For a moment, stars danced before her eyes.

"You still haven't learned to hold your tongue," Alana declared, glaring at the stunned vampiress before shifting her malevolent gaze to Van Helsing. "Perhaps watching me kill your precious Gabriel will finally drive the message in."

"Then go ahead, try and kill me!" the hunter challenged. "You've proved to be all talk and no action up until this point-hardly threatening!"

The vampiress's eyes flashed icy blue. "You wish to see action, do you? I'll give you action that you'll not soon forget!"

Without any prior warning, guards suddenly appeared at the far end of the hallway, blocking the staircase. Doors opened, and more guards poured into the hallway. Looking over his shoulder, Van Helsing watched as several unfamiliar-looking warriors-including two beautiful young women, one of whom eyed both him and the now-humanoid Alexsei salaciously with topaz-colored eyes-blocked the staircase they'd just come through…and as a familiar face joined them.

"Well, well, well, didn't think I'd be seeing that mug of yours again so soon, _Gabriel_," Matthias sneered.

Shock bloomed within Van Helsing, but he managed to shove it down, unwilling to shown he's been caught off guard. "It's impossible-I killed you. I saw myself do it. You can't possibly be alive-or real."

"Who says he can't be?" an unfamiliar voice drawled. A door opened, and out strolled an unfamiliar black-haired man. He wore a shirt of tightly-linked chain-mail, along with greaves strapped to his shins, all under a sable robe; strangely enough, a blackened rosary dangled around his neck. His piercing emerald eyes stared intently at the hunter. "Anything's possible when you control the dead, Van Helsing. _Anything._"

"Ah, Thanatos-wonderful job you did with Matthias, absolutely splendid," Alana praised.

The man, Thanatos, smiled. "It was no trouble, Alana. Can't have you deprived of your chief guard."

"Van Helsing!" Carl suddenly cried out. He turned back around, only to find Carl held in front of Alana, one arm restraining him, while the other arm leveled a large blade at his throat. A wicked grin curled her lips.

Deep in his throat, Van Helsing gave a guttural, savage growl, as if werewolf venom still flowed in his veins. "Let him go, Alana-let Carl go. This fight is between you and me. It's not about him. It never was."

"Let him go, you say?" Alana purred. She removed her hand from Carl's chest, stroking his messy blonde hair as she appeared to be thinking it over. The skittish friar flinched every time Alana's hand touched his head. "All right," she conceded after a moment. "I'll let your sniveling little friar friend go."

She moved the large blade away from Carl's throat, placing it on the ground…but, in a whirlwind of movement, she grabbed a small knife that was strapped to her ankle and shoved it into Carl's chest. He gasped in pain as the blade slid between his ribs and punctured his lung. The vampiress proceeded to twist the knife ninety degrees, scraping it against his ribs. His face contorted in agony; blood spurted from the wound, seeping onto his robes, staining the brown wool a brilliant scarlet.

Cries of shock and outrage escaped Van Helsing, Gabrielle, and Alexsei, but the worst reaction came from Alexandra. Throwing back her shaggy blonde head, she let out a howl-half heartbroken, half infuriated-and charged Alana. She snatched Carl from Alana's grip, carrying him off before any more harm could befall him. Several guards charged her, and, cradling Carl with one arm, she methodically-albeit viciously-slaughtered the guards that dared to charge her. Tears trickled from her golden eyes as she did.

Alana smirked. "I told you I'd show you action, did I not?" She watched Alexandra tear her guards apart, not even caring about the men she was losing. "You can tear apart all the men in the world, little puppy-it's not going to change that your little friar friend is dying-"

Her phrase was cut short as, out of nowhere, a small white wolf slammed into her, taking her to the floor.

"I know I'm supposed to respect my elders," Sigrid growled, flashing sharp canines at Alana. "But you really need to shut up, _Savne_ Alana."

The warriors guarding the staircase to the lower floors were suddenly thrown and shoved aside as Egil, Kaja, Rolf, Akyra, Lexa, Andreas, Frankenstein, Edward, Adolpha, and several werewolves from the de Autechane pack stormed into the hallway. Akyra looked around, smirking. "Hmm…twenty four of us versus sixteen of them. I like these odds."

"You won't be enjoying them for long," Thanatos promised darkly.

"Actually, we will," Lexa stated boldly, stepping forward, pointing a pistol to Alana. "In case you hadn't already guessed, we're here to send you back to Hell, where you belong." She cocked her pistol. "Now hold still, make this a little easier for us."

"Not a chance!" The stone around Alana's neck began to glow purple, while violet haloes ringed her irises. She smirked as she began to worm her way into Lexa's mind, trying to take her as not only a prisoner…but a slave as well.

But then…she stopped.

Or, rather, she was blocked. She couldn't reach any further into Lexa's mind. She hissed in frustration, and Lexa grinned cheekily.

"Ha! Bet you didn't expect to go up against someone with as strong a mind as me!" she taunted. "You really should take these things into consideration, Alana."

Her lips twisted into a snarl, and, using the same spell she used on Gabrielle, she hurtled Lexa backwards. The ginger-haired firebrand fired her pistol, the shot winging Alana's arm. Everyone in the hall, with the exception of Alexandra-who now sat on the floor, Carl's head in her lap, stroking his face-erupted into fighting. Alexsei, tag-teaming with Gabrielle, held Alana off, while Van Helsing slipped through the fight to see the extent of Carl's injury.

"How bad is it?" he asked Alexandra, kneeling next to her.

She looked up at him with teary brown eyes. "I-I don't t-think he's g-going to make it…"

The hunter looked down at Carl, his only real friend for eight years. He refused to believe that his closest companion was facing the end of his life. "Come on, Carl, hang in there," he encouraged. "Don't die on me. I want you to see the end of this fight."

"D-Don't worry-I've g-got a p-plan," Carl assured him through labored breaths. He looked up at Alexandra. "I'm g-going to n-need your h-help with t-this, Alexandra. B-But first…"

Moving slowly and wheezing loudly, Carl reached into a pouch at his waist. After a moment's fumbling, he pulled out what he'd been sent in to find-the silver athame. He placed it in Van Helsing's hand.

"T-Teach her the m-meaning of p-p-pain for m-me, will y-you?"

A grin came to his face as his hand closed around the hilt of the athame. "I'll do that and more, Carl."

* * *

Alana: Wow, Gabriel, I had no idea you cared so much about your little friar friend *grins*

Van Helsing: What are you talking about?

Alana: Well, I mean, with how you reacted to me stabbing him and all...

Van Helsing: *blinks* Are you insinuating that you think I'm gay?!

Alana: You said it, not me...

Van Helsing: Woah, woah, woah, I never insinuated anything of the sort!

Alana: Mhm. Sure.

Van Helsing: *facepalm*

_Alana, leave him alone._

Alana: *scowls* You're no fun.

_Hey, I draw the line at accusations that he's gay._

Alana: Face it, Rora, he's never going for you.

_STFU, Alana. A girl can dream._

* * *


	23. Die, Die My Darling

_**A/N: **Check it out! A chapter in, what, six days? Quick, no? Well, I was inspired, and this is the chapter of the epic battle, so I had to get it out fast or I was going to explode. Thanks to **SpeedDemon315** for her review!_

_**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Van Helsing. Stupid copyrights._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Die, Die, My Darling

Carl couldn't help but smile as he watched Van Helsing charge back into battle, athame in hand. But that smile didn't last long; it was quickly replaced with a grimace of pain. The knife was still stuck in his chest, and, in addition to being painful as Hell, it was impeding his breathing. He knew he didn't have much longer, and he didn't have a prayer of recovering from an injury so severe.

At least, not without a little supernatural intervention.

Alexandra's face loomed over him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Even with puffy, teary eyes and blotchy patches of red all over her visage, she still was the most beautiful woman he knew he'd ever seen.

"C-Carl…" she whimpered.

"Alex…Alexandra…I h-have a p-plan…" he wheezed. "But…I n-need you t-to go a-along with it…for it t-to…to w-work."

"W-What is it, C-Carl?"

He offered her a small smile. "B-Bite me."

For a moment, she said nothing, only stared, tears still spilling over from her eyes. After recovering from what Carl could only assume to be initial shock, she spoke. "Are y-you s-sure about this?"

The friar nodded weakly. "I'm s-sure…will y-you…do it?"

"I will…I w-will. But f-first-" Her hand closed around the knife's handle. "T-This needs to c-come out. I-It…It s-should heal as you t-turn."

She began to gently move the knife back and forth, working it out of the wound. Carl would have screamed from the intense pain of the knife scraping against his ribs, but with it lodged in his lung, that was impossible. Instead, he gasped and wheezed to let her know of his torment. She leaned in and gently pressed her lips against his brow.

"I k-know it h-hurts, C-Carl…I'm sorry. I'm s-so sorry," she whispered, pulling gently on the knife. After a couple more heartbeats' worth of work, the blade finally slid free. Brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, Alexandra licked her lips nervously. Sharpened canines gleamed as her tongue passed over them; the chocolate color of her eyes began to fade, drowning in a rich golden hue.

"T-This is g-going to hurt…"

A shaky smile crossed his face, while a trembling hand gestured to his gaping chest wound. "A-And you t-think t-this doesn't..?"

A small noise, halfway between a laugh and a choked sob, escaped her. "A-All right, a-all right…A-Are you r-ready?"

The small friar nodded, and Alexandra tilted his head gently to the side, exposing his jugular vein she could clearly see pulsating. Hesitating only for a moment, she lowered her face to Carl's neck.

The taste of warm, human blood exploded on her tongue.

***

Van Helsing ducked as Alana swung her blade, feeling it fly over the top of his head, having been only seconds from decapitating him. She have an enraged hiss, whipping the blade back around in the same path it had just traveled. As she swung it around again, the hunter lunged, knocking her off her feet. With an enraged, surprised shout, Alana toppled backwards, hitting the floor. Van Helsing smirked, but his victory was short-lived. Suddenly, he was frozen, unable to move at all. His feet lifted from the ground, leaving him unexpectedly suspended in midair.

From the floor, Alana smirked at him. Her arm was outstretched, palm towards him; clearly, she was the one who was making him hover.

"Looks as though your mother never taught you not to hit a lady," she sneered, eyeing him coldly. "Guess I'll have to take it upon myself to teach you that lesson!"

A crackling violet orb lit up her palm, and she lobbed it at Van Helsing, catching him in the chest and blasting him backwards. As he flew down the hallway, he caught several guards, knocking them down even as they fought his allies. One guard had been fighting against Egil, who was still in the form of a pure white wolf, when the hunter collided with him, taking him down. As soon as the guard hit the floor, Egil pounced on him, tearing out his throat and spraying black blood everywhere.

The hunter finally hit the floor himself, skidding along the carpet for several feet before coming to a complete stop. He fought back a wince, knowing that Alana's psionic blast, along with his subsequent flight down the hallway, had broken at least one rib, if not more, and left a nasty burn on his chest. But he wouldn't give Alana the satisfaction of seeing him in pain.

Rolling over onto his back, he saw Alana striding towards him, shoving people out of her way, regardless of whether they were friend or foe. Quickly, he drew his revolver and fired a shot, striking Alana in the arm. Her steps faltered, and she grabbed at her arm, black blood seeping through her fingers. She glared at him, fury in her eyes, and before a heartbeat could pass, she had closed the distance between them, grabbed his left wrist, and twisted until a bone cracked. Agony shot through his arm from his broken wrist, and he gave a tormented grunt. Satisfied with her work, Alana then grabbed him and flung him back down the hallway, like a child tossing a toy. This time, he flew all the way down the hallway until he hit the wall of the stairwell. He would have gone tumbling down the staircase had a hand not seized him and pulled him back into the hallway.

"Well, that certainly would be a nasty fall," Rolf commented, releasing the back of the hunter's coat. His silver eyes took in Van Helsing's battered, weary form with a strange look-almost disappointed. "Please don't tell me you let Alana do all that to you."

"I didn't _let_ her," he grounded out, massaging his broken wrist. "But she did it anyways."

He nodded. "Well, she rather is that kind of woman." He then shook his head. "Never mind, this is the wrong time for that. Van Helsing-don't let her win. She wins, we die. It's that simple. And let's face it…" His intense silver gaze left Van Helsing, travelling to Akyra, who was dismembering a guard with a huge smile on her face. "Now's not the best time to die."

To the legendary slayer, Rolf's words rang true. If Alana won the battle, she would continue using her magic to poison and kill Catherine. He would perish in the fight if she won. And she would kill everyone who had put their lives on the line to help him.

But everyone had something to live for. Frankenstein had the prospect of finding a place where he could be accepted. Sigrid had a whole life ahead of her, the chance to grow up, fall in love, and do what she was clearly good at: killing monsters.

And love. All the rest had love to live for.

"You're partially wrong, Rolf," he told him, the smallest of wicked grins coming to his face. "It _is_ a good time to die…well, it is for Alana."

Rolf laughed. "Damn straight. Now-"

From out of nowhere, the broad side of a blade collided with the dark-haired drow, driving his breath from him and flinging him into a nearby wall. Before Van Helsing could react, something collided with the side of his head, sending him reeling. He hit the floor, black stars exploding before his eyes, his skull throbbing from the blow.

Alana gave a derisive snort, twirling her modified pole ax in her hand. "Pathetic. Really, Gabriel, I think you're losing your touch." She slammed a foot down on his chest, causing his broken ribs to send a jolt of searing agony though him. She leveled the large blade at his throat. "That was hardly even a battle. I expected a violent, bloody conflict, not a minor interruption to my day." She pressed the blade harder, breaking through his skin. A drop of blood trickled down the hunter's neck. "Face it, Gabriel, you're a failure. You failed me. You failed your precious Anna. You failed Nickelia. And now, not only have you failed your beloved wife, but you've failed your self-righteous brat of a sister-"

Her sentence was cut short as someone unexpectedly cold-cocked her in the face. She hit the ground, her blade falling aside; Alexsei, in his human form, stood over her. His pale hands were curled into fists, while his golden eyes glared at Alana lividly.

"That's my wife you're talking about, you wretch," he growled.

The report of a gun rang out, and Alexsei gasped in torment as a bullet tore into his back. Behind him, Thanatos stood with a rifle poised, ready to fire again.

"No one touches her!" he snarled, his face a mask of hatred.

"No one talks about my Catherine like that!" Alexsei roared back, his nails growing out into lethal claws. Even though blood was dripping rather profusely down his back, he went ahead and engaged Thanatos in combat. The two fought viciously, and, when a lull came to the fight after Alexsei threw Thanatos into a wall, he looked over first at Van Helsing, who was getting to his feet, and then Alana, who was trying to stop the stream of blood leaking from her nose. "Gabriel! Kill her! Now's your chance!"

"Oh, no you don't!" Thanatos argued, coming up behind Alexsei and smacking him in the head with the butt of his rifle. Alexsei yelped, before turning around and head-butting the necromancer, sending him backwards.

Van Helsing looked down at Alana, who was just now starting to get to her feet. Alexsei was right-now was his chance.

_I can end this, all this madness. I can end it once and for all._

He seized Alana's weapon, which she had dropped when Alexsei punched her in the face, and then swung it around, striking Alana squarely in the chest. She fell backwards, looking stunned; fury slowly clouded her face.

"How dare you!" she shrieked.

"How dare I?" he growled, dropping the blade and reaching into his coat, pulling out the athame. He dropped to his knees, placing a hand on Alana's chest, exerting all his strength to keep her pinned to the floor. To his amazement, she stayed down, glaring at him with icy blue eyes. He glared back unflinchingly.

"How dare I?" he asked, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You're scolding me for hitting you while you're down? Well, give me a reason not to! Whatever problems you have with me are between us, Alana. It wasn't about Nickelia. It wasn't about Gabrielle. It wasn't about Catherine. And yet, you went ahead and dragged them into this, made their lives complete and utter Hell. And now, I-" He raised the athame high, ready to bring it down on its final, fatal descent. "-am simply giving you what you've had coming for a long while now." A wicked, black satisfaction zipped through him when he saw the fear in her eyes.

"_Putrezi în iad, vrăjitoare-demon._"

He brought the athame down, plunging it deep into Alana's heart. A strangled gasp escaped her crimson lips, while her icy eyes bulged. Black blood gushed from the fatal wound, spattering Van Helsing's face and clothes, coating his hands. Satisfied with his work, he stood, watching the athame do its deadly work.

"Alana!"

A black blur zipped past Van Helsing, shoving him aside. The black blur was Thanatos; he knelt next to his beloved, pulling out the blade and throwing it aside. He gently stroked her face, wiping away the bloody tears of pain that trickled down her face. "It's going to be all right, Alana," he assured her softly. "It's going to be all right. I _won't_ lose you."

"T-Thanatos…" she gasped. "I-I…love…"

Another agonized gasp escaped her; under her skin, gray lines spread out, forming a sort of spider web pattern as the silver seeped into her system and poisoned her vampiric blood. Violent tremors racked her slender frame, and, after a long moment, the light left her chocolate-shot icy eyes. Her head lolled limply to the side, while the tremors subsided.

Alana Tremarie, the legendary Dark Vampire Sorceress of Transylvania, was dead.

Thanatos whipped his head around, fixing the hunter with his piercing emerald gaze. "You _will_ regret this," he promised, gathering Alana's corpse in his arms. Before anyone could do anything, he took off, vanishing down the staircase. The guards still standing in the hallway looked around before making a retreat. The two beautiful young women, along with an Oriental man, an older man with gray-streaked hair, a handsome young man with spiky black hair, and a shriveled old crone, all vanished down the stairs, following after Thanatos. After a licentious look in Gabrielle's direction, Matthias followed them.

"What do you think he meant by that?" Gabrielle asked, coming to her husband's side.

"Who cares?" Akyra asked, grinning and tossing back her thick, black hair. "The battle's over! The bitch is dead! We win!"

Cheers erupted up and down the hallway. Sigrid jumped into her now-human uncle's arms, hugging him around the neck. Rolf and Akyra, along with Edward and Adolpha, celebrated the victory with a passionate kiss. Lexa threw her arms around Andreas, kissing his cheek. Gabrielle buried her face in her husband's chest, while he stroked her long, black hair, kissing the top of her head. Alexsei gathered up the still-unconscious Nickelia, a small smile on his face.

"It's over now," he said, relief in his voice. "It's done."

"That is it," Lexa agreed. "Now let's get the hell out of here, leave this accursed place to whoever wants it."

"I haven't heard a better idea in ages," Van Helsing told her, scooping Gabrielle up and heading for the staircase.

* * *

Van Helsing: *singing* Ding dong, the witch is dead!

Alexsei: *singing* Which old witch?

Van Helsing: *singing* The wicked witch!

Van Helsing and Alexsei: *singing* Ding, dong, the wicked witch is DEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!

_Wow, you two are chipper..._

Alexsei: Hey, Alana's dead, Catherine's safe, and we're all alive! I think I'm allowed to be chipper.

_No, no, go ahead. It's good to see you so happy._

Van Helsing: Oh, hey, Aurora, didn't you say there was something you wanted to share with the readers?

_Oh, yes! Right! Thank you-I wanted to share with the readers the lyrics to the song that inspired this chapter: "Die Die My Darling" (redone) by Metallica. Enjoy!_

Die, die, die my darling  
Don't utter a single word  
Die, die, die my darling  
Just shut your pretty mouth

I'll be seeing you again  
I'll be seeing you in Hell

Don't cry to me oh baby  
Your future's in an oblong box, yeah  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Should have seen it a-coming on  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
I don't know it was in your power  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Dead end girl for a dead end boy  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Now your life drains on the floor  
Don't cry to me oh baby

Die, die, die my darling  
Don't utter a single word  
Die, die, die my darling  
Just shut your pretty mouth

I'll be seeing you again  
I'll be seeing you in Hell

Don't cry to me a baby  
Your future is in an oblong box  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Should have seen the end a-coming on, a-coming  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
I don't know it was in your power  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Dead door for a dead end life  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Now your life drains on the floor  
Don't cry to me oh baby

Die, die, die my darling  
Don't utter a single word  
Die, die, die my darling  
Shut your pretty mouth

I'll be seeing you again  
I'll be seeing you in Hell

Don't cry to me oh baby  
Die, die, die my darling  
Don't cry to me oh baby  
Die, die, die my darling  
Die, die, die my darling  
Die, die, die my darling

Die, die, die, die, die, die....

* * *


	24. What Changes Tomorrow Shall Bring

_**A/N: **Hello my freaky darlings, and welcome to the next chapter of Intrusive Dusk! I don't have much to say right now, but I would like to thank **SpeedDemon315** for her review and thank **GuenVanHelsing** and** musiclover209**, who told me via deviantART what they thought of the chapters!_

_**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Van Helsing. Damn._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four: What Changes Tomorrow Shall Bring

"You know, Carl, for someone freshly-bitten, you're doing remarkably well," Alexandra commented, casting a warm smile to the friar.

He smiled back, tugging on her sleeves that were too long for him so he could use his hands again. Seeing as his robes had been torn and stained with blood in the battle against Alana, he had been forced to trade them for a pair of Andreas's trousers and a sweater borrowed from Egil. While Andreas was only an inch or two taller than Carl, Egil had a good eight or so inches on the short holy man, thus the sweater he'd borrowed was practically a dress on him. "I still don't feel my greatest-but your uncle told me my fever was down, and the coughs and chills subsided enough for me to leave the house. Besides, I wanted out." He gave the blonde werewolf a smile and a small wink. "Van Helsing gets cranky when he's cooped up in bed."

Alexandra laughed. "I can only imagine! Well, it's been almost a week since the battle-surely, Uncle Alexsei won't keep him in bed much longer."

"By the way, how much longer will the fever and chills last? I feel as though I've been struck with influenza."

"They'll last until your first full moon. Closer to the full moon, you're probably going to find yourself more irritable, more restless, and, well, more…you know. But that's completely normal." She reached over, tugging at the neckline of his sweater. "Did my uncle change your bandages?"

"Just this morning."

"How's the knife wound look?"

"Almost completely gone-just a small scar left."

"And the bite?"

"Still a little red and somewhat painful. You have a nasty bite."

"My bark is much worse," she snickered.

The duo passed the outskirts of Miscoara Valley, heading to the heart of town, where a telegraph office was located. Earlier that week, right after the battle, Alexsei had sent word to the Vatican that Alana was dead, and everyone was alive but taking a few days to recover. Carl, along with Alexandra, was returning to cable them again, informing the Order that they would be setting off for Rome the following day.

"I suppose I should let you handle it," Carl told Alexandra. "My Romanian leaves much to be desired, and last time I tried to cable Rome, I failed miserably. Thank goodness your aunt was there to translate for me."

"Don't worry, Carl, I'll handle it, Romanian is my native tongue." Smiling reassuringly at him, she took his hand and gently led him into the telegraph office. The building was small and rather crude, constructed of wood of a dodgy quality and lit with sooty oil lamps hanging from the rafters. The place was empty, save for an older gentleman standing behind the counter, his back to Carl and Alexandra. The latter approached the splintery wooden counter.

"_Domnule?_"

The old man turned around, giving an almost-toothless smile when he spotted Alexandra. "_Ah, bine dupa-amiaza, doamna. Cum te simţi azi?_"

"_Sunt bine,_" she replied, leaning gently against the counter. "_Si tu?_"

"_Foarte bine, vǎ mulţumesc. Cu ce te pot ajuta cu ceva azi?_"

"_Am nevole pentru a trimite o telegramǎ de la Roma._"

The man nodded. "_Da, doamna. Din Roma, care face acest lucru trebuie sa merg la?_"

"_La Vatican. Adresa de cablu, pentru a Cardinalul Jinette._"

"_Ce-ai vrea sǎ-i-spun Cardinalul Jinette?_"

"_Poti sa-i-spun cǎ Van Helsing, Domnul Dunkirk, şi Carl Brother va fi podoabă pentru mâine la Roma, împreună cu Doamna Van Helsing sį Doamna Dunkirk?_"

He nodded again, taking out a scrap of paper and quickly jotting it down. For a moment, Carl wondered if the message would be delivered in Romanian or English, but then he remembered that there were people at the Vatican who could, in fact, translate the message.

"_Da, doamna. I va Roma prin cablu cu mesaj imediat,_" the old man replied once he had finished jotting down her message. He then disappeared into the back, while Carl joined Alexandra at the counter.

"That was quite impressive," the friar complemented.

"It really was nothing-Romanian is my first language."

"Then how is your English so good? I swear, every Romanian person I stay in extended contact with speaks surprisingly good English-even Princess Anna spoke good English!"

"Uncle Alexsei taught me. He studied at Oxford for a while, to refresh his medical degrees, and when he came back, his English was quite good. I begged him to teach it to me."

She smiled softly, staring vaguely at a point on the wall behind the counter, as if reminiscing. Carl watched her for a moment before speaking. "So…now that I have an eternity's worth of time, what's next?"

"Anything," she answered. "And everything. The future is in our hands, and we can do with it what we please." She looked at him, cocking a curious eyebrow. "What were you thinking of, Carl?"

"Well…" the blonde friar drawled out, "I was thinking perhaps…something a little more serious for you and me, Alexandra."

"Were you now?"

"Honestly? Yes."

"But…is that even allowed, for a friar to be involved with a woman? A woman who's a werewolf, no less? I swore friars took a vow of chastity, or celibacy, or what have you?"

"We do. But…but it's not just about sex-" Carl's face turned pink when he said sex, but aside from that, he continued on. "-Alexandra. When I say I want to get serious with you…I'm thinking marriage."

Alexandra's eyebrows climbed towards her hairline. "Marriage? But isn't that enough to have your title of friar stripped?"

He nodded. "I'm pretty sure it is."

"You'll never become a monk this way, you know."

Carl chuckled. "Alexandra, I've been a friar for nearly ten years now. If I was going to become a monk, I think I would have become one already. I don't have to be a friar to be a man of God."

"That Cardinal Jinette fellow won't be pleased."

"His Eminence is never pleased. This shan't be any different."

Alexandra shook her head. "I've created a monster."

"You…don't like it?" Carl asked, his smile slowly fading.

"No," she answered. "I _love_ it."

Carl leaned in to kiss her, a triumphant grin coming back to his face, but the old telegraph officer shuffled back to the counter. In his gnarled, weathered hands he held what appeared to be a telegram.

"_Doamna?_" the man inquired. "_Va avea un profit de cablu de la Cardinalul Jinette._"

He held out the fresh telegram, and Alexandra accepted it, curiosity brewing within her. "_Mulţmesc, domnule. Cât de mult va costa acest lucru?_"

"_Sapte lei._"

She nodded, fishing around in a pouch attached to a sword belt encircling her waist. After a moment, she pulled out a handful of coins, counted out seven of them, and placed them in the man's wrinkled hand, accepting the cable in return. "_Vǎ mulţumesc pentru tot ajutoral!_"

"_Sunteţi binvenit,_" he replied, dropping the money into an old wooden till. He waved his withered hand as Carl and Alexandra exited the shop. "_O zi plǎcuta!_"

"_Și acelas lucru sǎ te!_" she replied as they left the shop. As soon as they exited the shop, Carl reached for the telegram.

"What does it say?"

She held it away from him, grinning playfully. "Ah, ah, ah, patience is a virtue."

"You're telling me this?"

"We'll read it together," she told him, bringing it back over so they could both read the message. As their eyes flittered back and forth across the paper, twin expressions of shock bloomed on their faces. When both had finished reading, they stared at each other, thoroughly surprised.

"I'll be damned!" Carl blurted out.

"Oh my God!" Alexandra replied.

"We have to tell Van Helsing!"

"No offense, but to Hell with him, we have to tell Uncle Alexsei!"

"Well, we're not telling anyone by simply standing here! We have to get back to the manor!"

Alexandra nodded furiously, scattering her wheat-colored hair every which way. "I agree-we must get back with all haste!" She haphazardly shoved the telegraph into the pouch on her sword belt, then took off through the streets, not caring as patrons cast her befuddled looks. Grinning like a madman, Carl followed after.

***

"Gabriel, for the umpteenth time, get back in bed!" Alexsei admonished as he came into Van Helsing's room, only to find the hunter loading his effects into several saddlebags, preparing for the return trip to Rome. "I swear, when it comes to getting you to sit still for five minutes, you're as bad as Catherine!"

"Alexsei, I've been in bed for six days. I think I'm going to be all right," he argued, giving a rock-hard chunk of bread a confused look before stuffing it into a bag. "Remember, _I_ stabbed _Alana_ in the heart with a silver athame. Not the other way around."

"I don't care!" Alexsei bustled over, shooing the legendary hunter back towards his bed. "Do you know how long I spent tending to your wounds? I don't much care to put you back together again."

"I still think he doesn't care," Gabrielle piped up from behind. She stood in the doorway, holding Nickelia (who, since Alana's death, had gradually reverted from her unnatural state as an eighteen-year-old woman to her true form of a young baby), and a crooked smile on her pale red lips. Nickelia lay comfortably in her arms, babbling and cooing softly while playing with a necklace Gabrielle wore.

Alexsei rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Must you play Devil's Advocate?"

"Sorry." She strolled into the room, perching herself on the end of Van Helsing's bed. "I can't believe it's all finally over-we're going back to Rome tomorrow. It's not a dream."

"I know how you feel," Van Helsing told her, scooting a bit closer. "It almost feels surreal."

"Amen to that," Alexsei added, nodding. An anxious expression came to his face. "I hope Catherine's all right…"

"Perhaps Jinette sent word on her condition," Gabrielle suggested hopefully. "I know Alexandra and Carl went to cable him, he could have sent word with them."

"Oh, did he ever!" Alexandra exclaimed, bursting through the door. Her cheeks were flushed, while her breathing came in quick, even pants. Behind her, Carl staggered in, his entire face sweaty and crimson; his breath came in heavy pants. Alexsei guided him into a chair before he dropped dead.

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

Alexandra thrust out her hand, offering her uncle what appeared to be a crumpled telegram. A huge smile came over her face. "You must read this, you'll never believe it!"

Slowly, almost hesitantly, the lycanthropic physician took the wrinkled cable, smoothing it out so he could read it. As his hazel eyes flickered over the paper, they widened in surprise, until they were the size of saucers. A shocked look came over his pale features; he ran a hand through his mussed black hair, before swearing in what sounded like a cross between Romanian and Russian.

"Alexsei, what is it?" Van Helsing inquired.

"Sweet Mother Moon," he began, surprise in his voice. "Catherine's pregnant!"

***

The wheels of the coach stopped abruptly as Van Helsing guided the team of horses before the staircase of St. Peter's Basilica. A few assistants rushed forward to take the luggage that had been lashed to the roof, while the door creaked open and Gabrielle staggered out, followed by Carl, who looked mildly nauseous.

"Not to sound rude, Van Helsing, but who taught you how to drive a stagecoach? I swear, you almost got us killed a few times!"

"Yes, but I got us here in four days-even faster than I got us to Budapest to meet Alana."

"I know you're anxious, but it would have been hard to visit Catherine if we were all dead."

"Sounds as though it wasn't a very pleasant trip," Alexandra commented as she walked up, straightening her dress. Judging by the lack of tears in her dress, everyone could assume she had been naked when she transformed.

"Van Helsing tried to get us killed," Carl told her as they began to climb the steps leading into the basilica.

"I did not."

"That's enough, you two," Gabriella cut in, holding up a hand to silence them. She then gestured to Nickelia, who was cradled in her other arm, sleeping soundly, her head resting against Gabrielle's chest. "You'll wake the baby."

"Sorry," both men apologized at the same time as they entered the basilica. Surprisingly, Jinette was waiting for them, his face set in its usual, neutral expression.

"At last, you have returned," he greeted. "Welcome back, Van Helsing, Carl, Mrs. Van Helsing." He peered at Alexandra. "You must be Ms. Dunkirk."

She nodded. "Alexandra Dunkirk. Pleased to meet you."

"How's Catherine?" Van Helsing asked, skipping any and all pleasantries.

"Patience, my good son," the cardinal admonished lightly. "Your sister is doing well."

"We killed Alana just in time, didn't we?" he asked as Jinette lead him down a small side hall, towards the living quarters of the Vatican.

"You did. She would have died nine days ago gad you not killed Alana Tremarie."

"The day after the battle," Gabrielle murmured.

"Yes," Jinette agreed with a nod.

"We must stop cutting these things so damn close," Van Helsing remarked.

"Mind your language." Despite his reprimand, a small smile could be seen on the Cardinal's usually stern face. He led them to a door marked with a red cross and stopped, his hand on the knob.

"And…" Carl began, from Alexandra's side. "Is Catherine..?"

"See for yourselves," Jinette answered mysteriously, opening the door. Curiosity overwhelming him, Van Helsing entered the room beyond the door, closely followed by his wife, Carl, and Alexandra.

The infirmary was startlingly empty; only a few orderlies were there, dressing the plan beds with clean white sheets. As night had just fallen, oil lamps lit the room, casting shadows on the walls. The occupied bed was one in the corner, isolated from all the other beds. A young brunette woman occupied the bed, presently being held in the arms of a black-haired man. She looked up, spotted the quartet that had just walked in, and smiled, waving them over.

"Finally! You're back!" Catherine cheered as they walked over. "I was beginning to get worried. I mean, Alexsei got here days ago…"

"That's because I was a little overeager," he chuckled, slightly shifting his arms, which were wrapped around her waist. As he did, Van Helsing's keen eyes noticed that Catherine's grey blouse seemed a bit snug around her stomach. His grin grew.

"So when were you planning on telling us?"

Catherine's hands instantly dropped to her stomach. "I would have told you sooner, but I didn't quite realize myself."

"My word!" Carl exclaimed. "You _are_ pregnant!"

Catherine laughed at Carl's exclamation. "Yes, Carl, I am pregnant. What, did you think Jinette was lying?"

"How far along are you?" Gabrielle asked, sitting down next to her friend.

"About two and a half to three months," Catherine answered, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Alexsei says I may have the baby a little earlier than a human would, since I'm a fallen angel. Not to mention there's a chance this baby could be a werewolf, and werewolves typically give birth around eight months."

"I still can't believe it," Alexsei murmured, stroking her hair affectionately. "We're going to be parents, Catherine. It's quite mind-blowing, to be frank."

She nodded. "It really is. But so exciting!"

"You know what's even more exciting?" Van Helsing asked. "That you get to live to fight another day, Catherine."

"Oh, stop, you're going to make me blush," the fallen angel insisted, a smile lighting up her face.

"It's true, though," Gabrielle argued. "We're all glad you pulled through…especially because of this new little blessing." She reached out and gently tapped Catherine's growing stomach.

"Thanks," she replied. "But that's enough about me-I want to hear about what happened out there! Alexsei tells me that there's a little Norwegian girl who wants to meet me…"

Alexsei nodded. "Sigrid Swenhaugen. You'll love her, she's a darling girl."

"Not to mention I heard you all made a load of friends."

"We certainly did," Carl agreed.

"And I heard that Alexsei finally reunited with his elusive niece."

"You would be correct," Alexandra told her, stepping forward. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Aunt Catherine."

"The same to you, Alexandra," she replied, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her niece. "I've heard quite a bit about you. Now…" She turned to the others, her sapphire eyes alight with excitement, as if she were a little girl awaiting her favorite bedtime story. "I want to hear about what happened! And you best not leave out any details, because I will kick you arse, regardless of my pregnancy."

Van Helsing smiled. "All right, all right. Well…you already know how Alana came into the picture, and why we wanted her dead. Now, she wanted us to meet her in Budapest, so we met her in Budapest…"

* * *

**Translation of Romanian dialouge**

Alexandra: Sir?

Old Man: Ah, good afternoon, Miss. How are you today?

Alexandra: I am fine. And you?

Old Man: Very well, thank you. How may I help you today?

Alexandra: I need to send a telegram to Rome.

Old Man: Yes, Miss. Who in Rome does this need to go to?

Alexandra: The Vatican. Address the cable to Cardinal Jinette.

Old Man: What do you wish to tell Cardinal Jinette?

Alexandra: Can you tell him that Van Helsing, Mr. Dunkirk, and Brother Carl will be setting off for Rome tomorrow, along with Mrs. Van Helsing and Miss Dunkirk?

Old Man: Yes, Miss. I will cable Rome with the message right away.

----

Old Man: Miss, you have a return cable from Cardinal Jinette.

Alexandra: Thank you, sir. How much will this cost?

Old Man: Seven lei.

----

Alexandra: Thank you for all your help!

Old Man: You are welcome. Have a pleasant day!

Alexandra: And the same to you.

* * *

Catherine: *wanders in* Wow, it's so good to be back to being a muse...

Alexsei: It's good to have you back, too *kisses Catherine*

Catherine: Oooh *kisses back*

_Woah, hey, keep it PG in here, you two!_

Gabrielle: Why should they? You don't.

_Eh, very true, very true. Fine, PG-13. And keep it in your pants, Alexsei._

Alexsei: Damn...

Van Helsing: Eager, huh?

Alexsei: I haven't seen her in a month. Give me a break.

Gabrielle: Don't keep her for too long, Alexsei-we've got to plan a baby shower for her!

_Oooh, I heard party! Well, I'm going to help Gabrielle plan a baby shower for Catherine, I'll see you all later for the next-and final-chapter of Intrusive Dusk!_


	25. Welcome to Existence

_**A/N: **And here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter of Intrusive Dusk! I can't believe I'm at this point, I mean, it's been...close to two years now. I actually started writing the first chapter in December of 2007, and now, here we are, August of 2009, and it's finally done! Anyways, I'd like to thank **SpeedDemon315** for her review, **GuenVanHelsing** and **musiclover209** for reading the last chapter, and to **Teyrian Timelord** for reviewing every chapter all the way up to chapter 17-that's pretty impressive! Hope you enjoy the final installment._

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Van Helsing. Probably never will, unfortunately._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five: Welcome to Existence

"I never would have thought that this would be a good way to get back together with the friends we made," Carl commented to Van Helsing as they both observed the happening within the vast ballroom.

"Well, what better way to get back together with everyone than a…would you call this a rehearsal dinner for your wedding?"

"I would," Catherine commented as she waddled up to her brother and Carl. One hand gripped the skirt of her midnight-blue dress, so she wouldn't trip over it, while the other hand half-cradled her swollen belly. She was smiling, but looked quite exhausted; Sigrid trailed close behind her, looking a bit worried. At nearly nine months pregnant, Catherine's stomach had swollen greatly to accommodate the baby-according to Alexsei, she was due to give birth any day now. However, that hardly stopped her from going about as normal a routine as possible-including attending a dinner in honor of Carl and Alexandra's wedding.

"Ah! Catherine!" Carl greeted with a friendly smile, though concern glimmered in his eyes. "How are you feeling this evening?"

"I'm just fine, Carl, don't fret," she assured them both, waving Carl's concerns away with a sweep of his hand.

"And the baby?" Van Helsing asked.

"Up and kicking away. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm having a baby or a mule."

"Are you sure you don't want to sit down, Savne Catherine?" Sigrid questioned gently, moving to her side. She gave a friendly wave to Carl and Van Helsing.

"Thank you, Sigrid, but I'm fine, I promise." She turned back to her brother and his companion. "By the way, Carl, congratulations on yours and Alexandra's upcoming nuptials!"

"Oh, thank you, Catherine!"

"I'm amazed Jinette actually agreed to let you renounce your title of friar," she added. "Generally, once you're training to be a monk, you're in it for life, and Jinette's always seemed to be a by-the-book sort of man. Hell, Alexsei and I had to beg and plead on hands and knees to be allowed to sleep in the same room together!"

"Well, Alexandra had a little chat with Jinette," the ex-friar confessed, chuckling softly. "She even got him to agree to officiate the wedding!" He glanced to Van Helsing. "By the way, thank you for letting us use your house to host this little dinner…and the wedding ceremony."

"Don't thank me, thank Gabrielle. She's the one who reminded me that there was a ballroom that was perfect for such an occasion."

Carl opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a gasp from Catherine and Sigrid's startled cry of "Savne Catherine!" Much to Van Helsing's surprise, Catherine had gone down to her knees, clutching her belly, her face suddenly drained of all color. A dark stain seemed to be spreading across the skirt of her dress, and the tangy, copper scent of blood scented the air.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Carl swore, looking panicky. "Where's Alexsei? I think that baby's coming-now!"

***

Everything seemed to move quickly, a strange, surreal blur of a dream to Van Helsing. Along with Sigrid's help, he tracked Alexsei down in the semi-crowded ballroom and informed him that his wife had just, unexpectedly, gone into labor. Alexsei had rushed off to find her, Van Helsing at his heels.

Now, they were back in the bedroom Alexsei and Catherine were staying in, Alexsei and his niece at the foot of the bed. Alexandra held a basin of water, while a pile of towels was stacked at Alexsei's feet. At the moment, there was a lull in the action-and Catherine's pained moans and whimpers-and Alexsei was gently massaging her foot, trying to soothe her.

"You're going to be fine," he promised. "It'll be over before you know it, and we'll have a baby with your beautiful blue eyes and that sweet little smile of yours."

"How do you know that?" she asked, wincing as another painful contraction swept in.

"Call it a gut feeling."

"I'd have to agree with him on that one, Catherine-he's a doctor after all. Their gut feelings tend to be right."

Instead of a response, the expectant mother gave an agonized groan, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the bed sheets. Alexsei knelt by the foot of the bed.

"Wait it out, Kitty, wait it out. I know it hurts, but you're almost there. You're almost ready to push, I promise. I promise."

Gabrielle, who stood at the left side of the bed, opposite her husband, grabbed a rag from the basin on the bedside table, wrung it out, and placed it against the back of Catherine's neck. She opened her mouth to offer her thanks, but instead, she yelped like a wounded puppy, her arm jerking and knocking the basin from the table, sloshing water on the sweat-soaked bed sheets and splashing on the floor. Only Gabrielle's quick vampiric reflexes saved the bowl from smashing against the flagstones.

"All right, you're ready! You're ready!" Alexsei called out, sounding excited and, at the same time, scared to death. "This is it, Catherine! Push!"

Her groans and yelps increasing in volume, Catherine heeded her husband's instructions and began to push. Both her brother and her sister-in-law took her hands, encouraging her as she struggled to bring her first child into the world. The amount of sheer agony only increased as she kept struggling through labor, testing the limits of her high threshold for pain, going as far as to bring tears to her eyes and almost tearing a scream from her lips.

And then…

"And…it's…a…baby!" Alexsei declared from the foot of the bed. Immediately following his words was a shrill cry; the lycanthropic physician lifted his arms slightly, displaying the screaming baby he held in his arms. Catherine opened her eyes, and as soon as she saw the baby, an awed look came over her flushed, torrid, and sweating face.

"Ohh…" she whispered. "Oh, Alexsei…"

"It's a girl, Catherine-a beautiful little girl," he informed her proudly, cutting and tying off the umbilical cord as Alexandra gently cleaned the viscera from the infant. They bundled her in a towel, and he moved to place her in her mother's arms. "Sweet Moon, look at her. She's beautiful-"

He stopped short as Catherine clutched her stomach again, gritting her teeth, wracked by another throe of torment. Concern on his face, Alexsei passed his daughter to Alexandra and hurried back to the foot of the bed.

"Alexsei? What's happening?" the fallen angel whimpered, confused and relatively terrified.

"I don't know! I don't know! I'm trying to-!" He broke off suddenly, a shocked expression overtaking his face. "Christ! I see…are those feet? Those are feet!" He looked up at everyone who stared back at him in disbelief. "Catherine, start pushing again! There's another baby on the way!"

"Twins?!" She hissed in pain before shooting Alexsei a pained glare. "This is all your fault, I hope you know that."

Disregarding her comment, Alexsei coached her through the second round of labor. Already exhausted and sore, Catherine's moans evolved into wails of torment that rivaled the cries of the newborn infant in Alexandra's arms.

"All right, the shoulders are out, now comes the hard part-the head," the lycanthropic physician called out. "One last big push and it's done. It'll be over. Come on, love, I know you can do it."

Mustering up all the energy her exhausted body could produce, she obliged her husband's wishes and pushed. She let out a full-fledged scream as the pain dragged out for a long, long moment, until…

"It's over! The baby's out!" he called, holding up the second newborn, who shrieked just as the first baby had. "Oh, Catherine, she's beautiful."

"S-She?" the fallen angel panted. "A g-girl?"

Alexsei nodded, cleaning and bundling up the younger twin and hurrying to Catherine's side, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the baby in her arms. Alexandra hurried over, placing the first baby (who was still wailing) in her uncle's arms.

"Well, would you look at that?" Van Helsing asked in an awed whisper. "Two little girls-and they're beautiful, Catherine."

"T-They truly are," she agreed, tears rolling freely down her cheeks as she gazed upon the infant in her arms, and the one in her husband's arms. The little girl she held had settled down, now gazing around the room curiously, while the daughter Alexsei held continued to fuss. Both girls already had a fine coating of downy black hair covering their heads, evoking a chuckle from the exhausted fallen angel. "T-They got y-your hair, Alexsei."

He chuckled. "And I think this one got your attitude. She cries like she did."

"What are you going to name them?" Gabrielle asked, moving to stand beside her husband.

"W-Well…originally, we w-were going to g-go with C-Cordelia Adaliah, if we had a d-daughter. But now…I'm n-not sure," Catherine confessed.

"Well," Alexsei began softly. "How about Sorina Adaliah? You see…I originally had two sisters: Alexandra's mother, Adaliah, and a baby sister, Sorina. She was born when I was seven, and I absolutely adored her. But she was weak and sickly from the day she was born, and didn't even make it to her first birthday. Mother never got over her death-after a while, she started to act like Sorina never even existed, to ease the pain a little. We were never allowed to talk about her…I suppose I completely forgot about her until now because of that."

"Sorina Adaliah…that's a b-beautiful name. B-But who do we give it to?"

"I say you give it to her," Alexandra suggested, motioning to the baby in Catherine's arms. "She seems very calm, like Uncle Alexsei, so I think we should name her for his side of the family."

"That's a good idea," Alexsei agreed, looking to the unnamed baby girl in his arms. "But what about this one?"

"A-Alexyna," Catherine panted, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "She was…the original matriarch of the Van Helsing f-family. She was the w-wife of Malachi Van Helsing, the first vampire h-hunter in the family." She smiled. "And b-by all accounts, a spitfire herself."

"I like it," the new father agreed. "Do you still want to use the name Cordelia? I know it was your mother's name…"

"Alexyna Cordelia? Alex for short?"

"If I may give my opinion, that sounds like a fine name," Van Helsing said, offering a small smile as he gazed upon his twin nieces.

Alexsei nodded. "It is. Can you believe it, Catherine? We've brought not one, but two beautiful little girls into the world. It's a miracle."

"It is," she agreed, watching as the girl she held, Sorina, yawned, before reaching for her mother's face with a tiny hand. Catherine stroked her hand with a finger, which Sorina's little hand closed around almost immediately. "Say hello to the next generation, everyone."

"I'd say it's going to be a good generation," the legendary hunter declared.

***

"Well, Magna? What's the verdict?"

The withered crone looked up to the man who'd spoken, gauging him for a moment before giving him a grin. "I'd say you're the father or two healthy little boys, Master."

"Really?" Thanatos asked, his emerald eyes lighting up instantly. They only brightened when the old witch approached him with two blanket-wrapped bundles.

"Yes, indeed-you and Lady Alana should be proud; these are two fine looking boys." She placed both of the bundles into the necromancer's waiting arms, before backing off a respectable distance. Thanatos turned, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed in the center of the rom. As soon as he did, Alana's eyes opened, looking up at the man she loved. The corners of her pale lips turned up gently, especially once she spotted the two bundles.

"Magna said boys?" she asked, her voice hoarse, but pleased none the less.

"Healthy, handsome boys," he informed her, shifting slightly, passing one of the babies into her arms. "Take a look."

She gave the smallest of sighs as she looked down at the little boy in her arms. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect." Her eyes took on a slightly far-away look. "I still remember when you told me I was pregnant with them-I honestly never thought, at that point, we'd get to this point."

"I remember that day as well," he agreed. "You didn't believe me at all at first."

"Twins is hard to believe for a vampire," she explained, running a finger up and down the cheek of the son she held. "Generally, it's hard enough for a vampire to conceive one baby-sometimes impossible, as the vampire may be infertile. It's an extremely rare occasion for a vampire to bear twins-and not lose any life in the process, be it one of the babies' or her own. Although, when it does happen, it's a blessing. Lucifer's blessing. Clearly, great things are in store for these two little boys."

"Speaking of these two little boys, did we want to give them the names we had discussed?"

She nodded. "We most certainly do. Now, who gets which name?"

Thanatos studied the twins intently for a long moment, before reaching out and gently touching the son Alana held. "I think he should be named Adrian Dragomir. It just seems to fit him better-I don't quite know why, but it does."

"I think it suits him," she agreed, stroking the soft tuft of raven hair the baby already had. She then looked to the identical child her lover held. "And he'll be Arkadi Kaevan?"

"Sounds perfect." Thanatos leaned in, pressing his lips against Alana's in a gentle kiss. She placed her free hand against his cheek as they kissed, savoring the warmth of his human flesh. After a moment, his lips moved, from her lips to the hand upon his face. He kissed her hand, loving the feel of her icy skin against his warm lips. She gave a small, tired giggle.

"If you keep that up, Adrian and Arkadi may find themselves being joined by a sibling."

"Would you like that?" he whispered to her, resting his forehead against hers, staring deep into her coffee-colored eyes.

"I would love nothing more," she murmured back. "Not even Van Helsing's downfall would thrill me more."

"You still wish to see him fall?"

"Of course I do," she insisted quietly. "But it doesn't have to happen right now-it can wait a while. Let's let him think I'm dead just a little longer, mm?"

"Sounds like a brilliant plan-lull him into a false sense of security, and then completely blow him out of the water when we strike."

Alana nodded. "Exactly. The future is ours, my love, completely ours for the taking." She gave a contented sigh, before leaning back against the pillows, which Thanatos had propped up for her while she was in labor, hoping to make her just a little more comfortable. The dark-haired necromancer leaned back with her, putting an arm around her, while his other arm supported Arkadi, who had dozed off to sleep, just as Adrian had in Alana's arms. "And damn, it's going to be good."

* * *

Alexsei: Oh, you would.

_I would what, Alexsei?_

Alexsei: You would bring the bad guy back.

Alana: *blows a raspberry at Alexsei* Ha, ha, she likes me better than you.

_Just because I brought you back doesn't mean I like you better._

Van Helsing: So...now what?

Catherine: *points to Alana* I say we ignore her. Focus on the good things.

_Why, that's very noble of you, Catherine-take the higher path-_

Catherine: And then later on, kick her ass.

_*sighs* So much for that..._

Van Helsing: Well, I guess there's no more to say. Want to send them off, Aurora?

_I'd be delighted. Anyways, so thanks for reading this little tale, and keep your eyes out for the sequel, Hybrid Dawn, which will be released sometime between now and New Years (I know, I know, it's a long span of time, but I've got some other projects and I want to see what progress I can make on them), and also, if you're a fan of the story or of my YouTube videos, keep your eyes peeled for an Intrusive Dusk trailer (which is in the works now and will probably be released soon). Again, thank you all for reading, and for all the love, advice, and reviews, and I'll see you next time!_


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